


Traditions

by FassyAnon



Category: Before We Go, Chris Evans - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Cunnilingus, F/M, Flirting, Kissing, Loneliness, Loss, Nick is a saint, Nick takes care of Violet, PIV Sex, Sex, St. Nick?, appalling lack of mistletoe, cookie decorating, cranberry garland, finally there is sex, her past is still haunting her, mistletoe appears, passing notes, popcorn garland, tree decorating, wait
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:34:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 52,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5503154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FassyAnon/pseuds/FassyAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Violet is still recovering from the loss of her mother right before Christmas last year. Doing what she can to make ends meet, she meets her next door neighbor. Can they help each other get over their losses?</p>
<p>A/N: I know I have other things in progress, but Violet wouldn't let me ignore her any longer (it is Christmas, after all). The sooner I get this one done, the sooner I can get back to my other stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When I moved into my 4th floor walk-up in the middle of summer, I didn’t care about the dead of winter and whether or not the steps would be kept clear and if the heat in the building worked. I didn’t think to ask about that stuff when it was 85 at 8 p.m.

I wish I had.

The radiators were spotty at best, working only when they felt like it, which was rarely. My one saving grace was that I was on the top floor. Hey, it was a decent enough way to stay in shape, walking up four flights of stairs. It was also a real pain in the ass at the end of a long day which, now that the holidays were upon us, was every day.

I had the look that _that_ store was looking for in its associates - you know, nothing special, but they did prefer us to be thin as a rail. No, not that store, the other one. I was lucky. I didn’t have a uniform that I had to wear. No, wait, I have that backwards: I did have a uniform I get to wear: black or navy pencil skirt falling right below the knee, white blouse. Pumps (no peeptoe but slingback were okay) or boots – no higher than just below the knee and no heels over 3” or under 1”. I had to blend into the background pretty much on command. It was a relatively bland existence and I fit right in. I helped other people spend their money by telling them what looked good on them. Talk about meaningless.

I’d come home at the end of a shift, my feet killing me, and go to work. My real work was what I wanted to do all the time. If I could afford it, I’d concentrate on it and leave everything else behind. My passion was a luxury for most people.

Hell, my passion was a luxury for me. Sure, I’d had a couple of modest showings at a couple of modest galleries, and each time I sold a modest number of pieces, problem was it wasn’t enough for me to quit my job.

I’d been working for so long in black and white that when I decided to add a color, for an abandoned bench in the park a deep green, or splash some yellow on the pretzel kiosk, it took a some time for it to look normal to me.

It was mid-morning when my photographs started coming together and as luck would have it, my neighbor began playing his music right at that time.

That’s not entirely fair since I hadn’t met my neighbor. I assumed my neighbor was a man, given his propensity for swearing under his breath in the hall, and his late hours and lack of chatter on the phone and his heavy footsteps.

And his jazz.

I both sighed and cursed when my days off coincided with his. I got lost in the jazz he played and that was my problem. I was unfamiliar with the artist so I couldn’t purchase the recording and listen to it whenever I wanted, so I’d get distracted.

Especially now, in the couple of weeks leading up to Christmas. See, I lost my mom last year. Three days before Christmas, well, you may have heard about it, at least, you probably did if you lived locally. She’d been minding her own business, helping a man purchase an engagement ring for his girlfriend when the jewelry store she worked in was held up. That man, the one purchasing the ring, happened to be an off-duty police officer and he tried to play hero. My mom was caught in the crossfire and, well, that was that.

Let me tell you, Christmas sucked, and then early spring I had to move out of the 2 bedroom I’d shared with her since I couldn’t afford it. I was too depressed after she was killed and I couldn’t work so my boss fired me. A really good friend put me up on her couch for a couple of months and then she gave me the news she’d been hiding: she was moving to LA. She got a small but meaningful part in some indie production that was shooting out there and she was going to make a real go of it. I couldn’t blame her, but I had to find a place, and fast. That was how I came to this building. Hey, it was available and in my price range and that was all that mattered.

So that day, the one when things started to click, I’d been thinking about my mom and how Christmas was always her favorite time of the year. I’d been debating whether or not to get a tree. They could be really expensive but I had all my mom’s ornaments. That was what I was thinking when the music started to play. I couldn’t handle it. I just about pounded on his door to scream at him, and that was when I realized I wasn’t mad at him. I was mad at those thieves for picking the store where my mom worked, and I was mad at that cop for pulling his gun and killing my mom over some shiny rocks (it was his bullet that killed her), and I was mad at my mom for dying. I had to get out of there.

Boots and hat and scarf and gloves and coat and I was running out the door. I’m pretty sure it slammed shut, but bounding down the stairs masked the loud thud. I was out the door and several blocks away before I stopped running. I needed to clear my head, get the demons out. My mom always called sadness a demon, something to be chased away with silly, goofy things, things that made me laugh. It was why I couldn’t listen to that sad song he’d been playing, with that sad trumpet (or trombone or clarinet? I had no clue) when all I wanted was to be sad. My mother would have hated what I was doing to myself.

I swear, she had to have been there, steering me in that direction. I looked up just in time to see the trees lined against the building. Max, my sweet, grandfatherly neighbor was selling them and he gave me an awesome discount. Dragging my tree back to my place was bittersweet. I was carrying on my mom’s tradition. I decided to wait until I was home until I had the right proper cry. While my mom hated tears, I liked them. I always felt better after a good cry.

I got the tree up the stoop and through the front door, before dragging it up the four flights of stairs and rejoicing when I got to my door.

Until I tried the door and found it locked.

And my key was inside.

That was it, the final straw that I used as my excuse to blow the dam and let the tears out. Everything would have been fine had I simply made no sound, but with everything I was feeling that wasn’t possible. I was mad at so many people: all the people from when I lost my mom; my bosses, both former and current; my former landlord for not being sympathetic and kicking me out of my place before I was ready to say goodbye to my mom; my friend for moving; and my neighbor, for playing the perfect music to accompany my sadness.

I was so wrapped up in me me me that I didn’t hear the music stop or my neighbor’s door open.

“Are you okay?”

I am not proud of the fact that I screamed but hey, at least I stopped crying.

“I’m not hurt.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Great, just what I need. A smart-ass. “I’m locked out.”

“What else?”

“What do you mean?”

When he sat next to me I realized I wasn’t going to be able to shake him.

“I’ve been here for a couple of months and have never heard one peep out of you. Now you’re locked out and you’re sobbing? Something’s up. Maybe I can help.”

“Why would you want to help?”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when someone needs help? Help them?”

A smart-ass do-gooder? Really? Ugh, the worst kind of person.

“Fine, you want to know how you can help?”

I was hoping to get him to back off.

“Yeah.”

No such luck.

“Tell me what you’re playing.”

“What I’m playing?”

I almost lost my courage when I finally glanced up. Great. Just what I needed: to meet my hunky next door neighbor when my nose was running and I was sure to have mascara streaming down my face. There went my first and last shot at having hot neighbor sex. I soldiered on.

“The album that you’ve been playing non-stop for the past week. I need to know what it is.”

“I didn’t know anyone else was here. I’m sorry I was bothering you.”

“I didn’t say you were bothering me. I mean you were, but you weren’t.” I’d never be able to explain that one without getting sympathy stares. Happened all the time. Maybe I’d get a sympathy fuck out of it? Look, if you knew what the man looked like, you’d be thinking of nothing but sex, too. “So, what’s the album?”

“It’s not an album.”

“Then what is it, a mixed tape?”

“Mixed tape?”

“You know what I mean.”

He looked like he was trying to figure something out. It took longer for him to answer than it should have.

“It’s me.”

Wait.

“What?”

“It’s me, practicing.”

“You practicing… wait, that was you?”

“Yep.”

“You’re a musician?” If this was real, I could not believe my luck.

“Yeah.”

“What do you play?”

“Trumpet.”

“Prove it, play something.”

“How about we get you back into your place.”

“I told you, I’m locked out. Please, play something?”

“We’ll get the super up here to let you in.”

Why was he avoiding this?

“Then will you play something?”

I think he was trying to figure out what my deal was. It wasn’t like I was asking for a private concert.

Except, that was exactly what I was asking for.

Shit.

Instead of answering he called the super and got me back into my place. I needed to thank him, and frankly, I needed to hear him play.

“How about, in exchange for the private concert I’m asking for, I fix you dinner.”

I felt like I was bathed in the glow from his face lighting up as much as it did.

“Deal. What time?”

“Come over at 7?”

“Sounds good.”

I wished I was better at reading minds. He looked like he was trying to figure out-

“I’m Nick, by the way.”

“Violet. Nice to meet you, Nick.”

“Nice to meet you, Violet. I’ll see you at 7.”

I closed the door and held back the squeal. I had entirely too much to do before 7.


	2. Chapter 2

There was no need for me to panic. I mean, I’d basically just invited a guy to my place for dinner. I was hoping to get some live music thrown in for good measure, and that was the only reason I’d asked him over. Okay, it was the main reason. Okay, fine. It was the secondary reason.

Cheese and rice!

I was lonely. Once Shelly moved to LA I didn’t have that many friends I could turn to. Everyone else had paired up and married off and they didn’t like having a single gal around. I don’t know if they envied that I was alone (not something to envy) or if they thought I’d make a play for their guys (no thanks), but toss in the whole I don’t have any parents and I’m all alone vibe and yeah, I wasn’t top on anyone’s guest list. Not that I’d really blame them.

Since it was still early I brined the whole chicken I’d planned on cooking. Knowing it would be submerged for a few more hours I decided to head to the gym earlier than usual.

By the time I got home, the chicken had been taking its bath for a couple of hours. I got everything set up for sticking it in the oven at the right time. I decided to beef up (haha, I made a funny) my side dishes and put together a quick quinoa cranberry pilaf and decided to take a chance on some oven roasted Brussels sprouts.

Being ready well ahead of schedule gave me time to get the tree up with some lights. I needed pictures so I could start to play with them, altering color and lighting and contrasts, doing what I normally do when I edit and alter my pictures. I get pretty engrossed in the process so it’s easy for time to whiz right on by.

That’s why, when I heard a knock on my door, I was startled. Was it time already? Opening the door gave me my answer.

“You know what’s normally a nice thing about having dinner at a neighbor’s, Violet?”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t need to wear a coat. This building though, you never know.”

It was nice to share a laugh with someone that didn’t feel forced, like it did at work.

“I have been cooking so it should be okay, but you never know. I have extra blankets, though, in case it gets cold.”

He handed me a bottle of wine when he came in.

“I’ve always found body heat to be more effective than extra layers.”

Great, flirting. I’ve never been all that good at it.

“You have a lot of experience with that do you?”

“Enough.”

“Thanks for the wine. Want me to pour you a glass?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

I didn’t really have wine glasses, and I only had a corkscrew because of a gag gift I got back in college (now there was a waste of money), so I pulled out some juice glasses that had been my grandparents. They were small, they were fancy with a swirl pattern on them, and they did the trick. Best part? Using them for wine meant that you got an actual glass of wine instead of a generous pour that could end up being double or even triple the size.

Rounding the corner to the living room, I caught him looking at my home gallery. I’d print 8” x 10” glossy pictures and frame and hang them so I could get a sense of whether or not the editing or modifying I was doing was going to work. I had to say: it felt odd to have someone viewing my in progress stuff. Kinda felt like I caught someone pawing through my silky underthings. Problem was, I wanted to catch Nick pawing through my things.

Just not my photos.

“Here you go.”

“Where’d you get these?”

I had an ulterior motive for that evening and no way was I letting him sidetrack the conversation.

“Around.”

“No, seriously, where?”

“Why? What do you need?”

“Is it a secret? Where you got them?”

“Why do you need to know?”

I never found out what his intent was when he turned. Something over my shoulder caught his eye. The evening shifted about two feet to the left.

He stepped around me and was in front of my desk before I realized why. You recall, I was startled when he arrived, right? Well, I forgot to turn off my monitor. The picture of my Christmas tree was still on-screen.

“This is yours?”

“Yeah?”

“These are incredible.” He scrolled through my pictures, periodically stopping to take note of some detail or other. It had been a few minutes and I tried to get him to stop. When he wouldn’t I headed to the kitchen. I knew tonight was going to be a bust, but I’d be damned if I was going to see him leave without the promised meal.

I served everything up and took the dinners out to the coffee table. I preferred, whenever possible, to eat by candle light, or at least not by overly harsh lamps designed to light a whole room. I had tons of pillar candles as well as tea lights that I lit, and I did turn on the Christmas tree lights. It was when I turned off the lamps that I heard any grumbling from my dinner companion.

“How am I supposed to see what I’m eating?”

“You could always step away from the brightly lit computer screen. You’ll be able to see.”

I assumed he was letting his eyes adjust to the lighting when he got up and glanced around the room.

“This is quite romantic.”

“This isn’t for you. It’s how I eat dinner every night. Actually, with the tree all lit up, I wouldn’t be using these candles if you weren’t here.”

He regarded me while he sat down. Had those lamps been lit, I’m sure I would have seen a furrowed brow with him trying to figure me out.

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

We took our time eating, chatting about nothing in particular: the weather, the building, quirks we’d each found about our apartments, the neighborhood. All of it was inconsequential small talk, the kind of stuff that I normally struggle with and hate.

Except, with Nick, it was easy. I found myself relaxing as he put me at ease with his tales. He even got me to laugh which was surprising, but at the same time it wasn’t. It wasn’t hard to be with him, not at all.

I cleared the dishes and was making coffee when I heard the front door snick shut. Great. Fabulous. One dine-and-dash please.

I won’t lie, I was hurt. My ego deflated a little. He’d claimed the food was excellent (the sliced lemon and garlic under the skin always did the trick, or so I thought) and we’d had a decent enough chat. I had really wanted to hear him play. You know, he didn’t know this, but my mom-

And that’s when I heard the door open and snick shut once more. My curiosity was getting the best of me.

“Where’d you go?”

“I left my trumpet at my place.”

I couldn’t help my laugh.

“You just wanted to make sure my food was edible before you paid up. Come on, admit it.”

“Of course.”

“You admitted it!”

“Vi, I’d like to think I’m good and I needed to make sure your meal was worthy.”

He used _that_ nickname, the one that my mom used. She’d been the only one ever allowed to use it. He knocked the wind out of me and I stumbled to the counter, grabbing hold, fingers digging into the Formica (and later I’d realize that Formica really doesn’t give and that was why my fingers hurt) so I wouldn’t collapse to the floor. I shook it off before he ambled into the kitchen.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Black’s good.”

I grabbed two of my reindeer Christmas mugs and poured the coffee, handing his over before fixing mine. I was still a little shell shocked at how much I’d missed hearing that once hated nickname. By the time I was back in my living room, Nick was ready to go.

“Any requests?”

“Something Christmassy would be good, otherwise-”

“No, I can do that.” He fiddled with his phone before he set it down. Music started to play and I had a hard time believing it. When the notes came tumbling out of his instrument, I got chills.

I’ll Be Home For Christmas. My mom’s favorite Christmas song.

Nick’s rendition was beautiful and haunting. He pierced my soul (yes, too much Jane Austen can rub off on you). It was, at once, tragic and sad yet uplifting, strangely romantic. I was rooted to the love-seat as he played. When the warring emotions took firm hold of my heart, I grabbed the nearest blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders, closing my eyes and letting the notes wash over me. I couldn’t help but resist the peaceful feelings that began to emerge. She wasn’t gone even a year and I was feeling okay? Who does that?

I felt his hand on mine and smiled, realizing he’d finished as I opened my eyes. Having dealt with the customers that frequented the store, I was an expert at putting on masks.

“That was beautiful. Thank you.”

His fingers dried my face as he asked, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Either my mask wasn’t firmly attached, or he had special insight. I needed to nip his questions in the bud. “Beautiful music makes me emotional.”

“That’s a first.”

“Either that or I’m tired.” I knew I was overselling it, but I needed the conversation to stop.

“Then I should leave. That was some good food, Vi. You can cook for me anytime.”

While I wasn’t surprised at the nickname, his use of it still smarted. I had to deflect.

“I think next time you should cook.”

“Oh no. I have one dish I can cook. I don’t want to use it up this early in our relationship.”

I knew he was pulling my leg so I didn’t acknowledge his use of _that term_. Instead, I got up and walked to the front door. I noticed he was gazing above my head and followed it. I wasn’t sure what he found so fascinating on the ceiling.

“Pity.”

“What?”

He opened the door and stood in the doorway, pivoting to answer.

“No mistletoe.” I couldn’t help but mirror his grin, the flirt.

“It would be rather narcissistic for me to be kissing myself.”

“But it provides the perfect excuse for your guests.”

No way could I respond to that. More deflection was needed.

“You played beautifully. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I watched as he walked to his door.

“Next time?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re up next time. We’ll talk about your photographs. Good night.”

He had to have known I’d protest. It was the only reason I could think of that he’d slink into his apartment so quickly.

Next time?


	3. Chapter 3

Nine days. I worked nine days in a row. I wasn’t scheduled for it, but when the twins Serena and Samantha went home with the flu, guess who got tapped.

I know what you’re thinking. Serena and Samantha? Yep, their mother was a Bewitched fan. When she found out she was having twin girls, she’d decided to name them after her favorite characters.

Whatever.

All I knew was I was exhausted from being on my feet all day, every day. I knew, I was just sure that I’d done something in a previous life and this was my own personal hell. Well, not complete hell. There was the money. Working all the time, and on commission, I started to ring up some really good sales which then made me want to work all the time (and that made me cranky since I had no time to work on my pictures). 

Mid-month, a couple of Sundays before Christmas would end up being my best ever. I helped a woman with three daughters, all who had Mommy issues. She was trying to buy their love. I hinted to her that she needed to put her Black Card away and instead spend some quality time with them. She wasn’t interested. On the one hand, I felt guilty about selling her stuff that her daughters probably didn’t want and definitely did not need. On the other hand, she was single-handedly financing my next three months.

I was exhausted when I got home Sunday night. If I didn’t have any pride, I would have crawled up the stairs on my hands and knees I was in so much pain. But, gotta finish strong.

I propped myself up against the door frame as I rooted for my keys. I didn’t register the other door on the floor opening. I almost cried when I dropped my keys.

“Oh shit.”

“Such language.”

I was too tired to startle.

“Bite me.”

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the centuries old wood, painted over three too many times (I knew because when I moved in my coffee table removed a chunk of what I thought was wood and what turned out to be nothing but paint), a smile emerging. I heard my keys being whisked up off the floor.

“Have I done something to make you mad?”

I wasn’t sure if he was serious or just pulling my leg. I decided to find out.

“Why would you say that?”

“Not many people I know use the greeting ‘bite me’ as a sign of affection.”

“I’m not like most people.” Who am I kidding? I’m exactly like most people. I am most people, utterly ordinary, mundane, run-of-the-mill.

“I’ll say.”

He had to be confusing me with someone else. I was in desperate need of my bed, or really any flat surface in my apartment. I held out my hand.

“What’s that for?”

“A million dollars or my keys, you take your pick.”

“I’m going to have to write an IOU for the money.”

“You’re funny.”

In response he picked me up and whisked me inside his place.

“Good plan. Wait until she’s dead on her feet and can’t fight back, then kidnap her. Kudos to you.”

At least he waited until he set me down on his couch before laughing. He stopped laughing, though, when I collapsed even further and fell over. It was the most comfortable couch I’d ever been on.

Or maybe I was just numb.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just toss a blanket over me and come back in a week.”

“Rough week?”

“Rough nine days.”

“What makes it so rough?”

“I shouldn’t complain. At least I’m working.” I struggled to sit up until a hand was thrust in front of my face.  I grabbed hold and he pulled me to where I was sitting. I listed the other direction and he quickly righted me.

“Okay, now I’m serious. Are you okay?”

“I’m exhausted. I need some sleep.”

“I disagree.”

“You know what I need better than I do?”

“I think you need some food first. Bet you haven’t eaten today.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You look like you need a sandwich. Actually, you look like you need a lot of sandwiches.”

I can’t even tell you how much I hated that expression. What little reserves I had I used to stand.

“Where are you going?”

I held my hand out.

“Home.”

He got points. He heard the tone in my voice. He knew I was pissed. He was just lucky that I had no energy or he’d be getting an earful. He stood, probably so we could be eye-to-eye.

“What did I say?”

“I just need to get home.”

“No, come on, Vi. I said or did something that pissed you off. Was it the crack about the sandwiches?”

I finally broke. I was hungry, starving actually, and exhausted and on edge from all the work and the anniversary of my mother’s death just around the corner and his crack at a real sore point for me and then Vi? How the hell was I supposed to keep it all together?

He caught me as I crumpled, tears streaming down my face a few seconds before the sobbing started. He held me while the flood released.

I was embarrassed when I realized I was crying on his shoulder. I tried to pull away but he was too strong for me.

“Nope, you’re not getting away. Just let it all out.”

And now he was being nice to me and that made my histrionics even worse.

He sat, pulling me with him and holding me close. Sure, I’d cried after my mom had died, but no one had held me like he was holding me. It had always been my mom who comforted me and since I had no one else in my life when she died, I hadn’t had this level of caring in what felt like forever. I melted into him and let myself get carried away.

You know how it is when you come off a gut-wrenching cry, your face a mess and you need to blow your nose for about 10 minutes. No one should ever have to see me after something like that. Here was my hot next door neighbor, I mean gorgeous, with his gorgeous blue eyes, almost a faded Levi’s blue, and lips so gorgeous and plump that you know he has to be the best kisser this side of the Hudson, and he was getting the up close and personal view. Have I mentioned that he's gorgeous?

“Bathroom?”

“Sure. Down the hall, the door on your left.”

“Thanks.”

I needed to splash cold water on my face. Hell, what I really needed was a shower. The water and blowing my nose and I felt a bit more on the normal side, but now I was embarrassed. What do I say to him? Anything? Maybe I’d be able to just dash out. But wait, he still had my keys. Fuck!

I got myself under control, blew my nose one last time, and headed out. He was waiting for me right outside the bathroom door.

“Look, I’m sorry about all that. Holidays, you know. If I could just have my keys, I’ll get out of your hair.” I didn’t lie. It was the holidays.

“I’m not buying it. Come on, come sit down. Drink a glass of water. I’ve got some soup on the stove.”

It was only for a nanosecond, but I was tempted. It would have been wonderful to let someone else take care of me, if only for a little while.

“No, that’s okay-”

“I’m actually not going to take no for an answer. You need water, and you need to eat.”

“What’s with the obsession for me to eat?”

“For as exhausted as you are, this isn’t just a one day thing. It’s been several, at least. And if you’re this exhausted, it means you didn’t have time to stop and rest, which means you haven’t eaten today which was probably just a couple pieces of toast at breakfast.”

At least he wasn’t commenting on the obvious.

“It was a bowl of oatmeal and a couple cups of coffee.”

“And that was what, 12 hours ago?” I rolled my eyes in acknowledgement. “And all you’ll do when you get home is flop into bed. You won’t eat.”

How did he know?

“Why are you so concerned about me?”

“I did something to you. What, I don’t know, and I want to fix it. Go sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

I acquiesced and headed into the living room. Maybe if I just-

He’d turned out the lights and had candles lit all over the room. What had I walked into?

“I’ll have you know you’ve ruined me for eating in normal lighting.”

A glass of water appeared in front of me. I took it and took one step before turning.

“What is going on here?”

“I can’t eat in a well lit room anymore. That, and I remembered how relaxed you got and I figured it might help you relax now. I promise. That’s my only intention, for today anyway. Go on, go sit down.”

I decided to use the couch instead of the chair. I removed my pumps, tucked my legs under me and sat.

It was quiet in his place. I was able to hear the pot on the stove and the oven door opening and closing _he was really planning on feeding me_ and the few steps he took before he came into the living room. He set the tray he was carrying on the coffee table and I caught the heavenly smells of a hearty beef stew. I had to swallow several times or I would have been drooling, my mouth was watering so much.

“You hungry?”

“Starving! That smells so good.”

“Well, so you know I didn’t make it so it has a much better shot at being edible.”

“Just so _you_ know, when I get this hungry, I almost don’t care whether or not something’s good.”

“Note to self: when I cook you dinner, I need to keep you busy for hours and hours ahead of time working up your appetite. Good to know.”

Did he just? I couldn’t even side-eye him. I saw his shoulders shaking when I turned to confront him.

“I can’t believe you just said that! God you are such a flirt!”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

It dawned on me I was going to have to be on guard with him. He’d perfected the art of the puppy dog eyes.

“It got you to smile, didn’t it? Got you to forget, if only for a few seconds, whatever it is that’s weighing so heavily on you? Whatever it was that I did that made you cry?”

I felt a glimmer of… something.

“True. Wait. Your flirting has altruistic motives? I think that’s a first.”

“Not all the time. Sometimes I’m just incorrigible.”

I knew I was in trouble with this man as I mirrored his smile. He handed me a bowl of stew and it was all I could do not to scarf it down, except that’s exactly what I did.

Did I mention I was starving?

It was quiet as ~~I inhaled~~ we ate. Nick appeared to be amused as I finished mine and he had more than half a bowl left.

“Do you want some more?”

“No, thanks. It was really good, and I know I’m being rude, but I should get going.”

His hand on my arm halted my progress.

“Why?”

“In about 5 minutes I’m going to drop into a food coma and I’d rather be out of these clothes and in bed when that happens.”

“I’d be happy to take care of that for you.”

What the hell was up with his damn eyebrows? And why was he smiling like that.

“Listen to you! I meant _my_ bed.”

I swear: I’d just been put on the menu.

“I could still take care of that for you.”

Nervous laughter as I slipped on my shoes was all I had in response that he could see. My stomach felt like it was filled with helium balloons, trying to lift me right off the ground. I bounded up off the couch and was at the door in a flash, having grabbed my keys off the coffee table.

“I’m perfectly capable of undressing myself.”

“I’m sure you are.”

I swear, the impending food coma made me do it.

“Besides, you’d be rooting around in my drawers for my pj’s and I can’t have that.”

“Why not?”

“It would be a waste of time since I don’t wear them. Thank you for dinner. I had a lovely time. I’ll see you later.”

Now who was slinking through the door...


	4. Chapter 4

I’m sure Nick heard me laughing on the way to my place. I couldn’t help it: I’d finally flustered him. He’d had my number for so long, without even realizing it, and it was nice to know he was human. It felt good. I wondered what else with him might feel that good. Or, possibly, even better.

Once my door snicked shut, I stood for a few moments. I needed my bearings. I left my apartment dark as I stripped off my clothes on my way to the bed, the food coma racing me to see who would finish first. I was snuggled in the bed on my way to lala land and thoughts of Nick holding and comforting me put a smile on my face. Such an awesome way to go to sleep.

When I first woke, I wasn’t ready to get out of my warm and cozy bed. I fell back asleep quickly and dozed for a few more hours. I’d earned the time and didn’t have a shift at the store for 24 whole hours. It was bliss.

The next time I woke, it took more blinking than should be legal to be able to open my eyes for any real length of time. I sat up and quickly burrowed back beneath the covers, lamenting the cold. I silently cursed the building when I realized that the heat wasn’t working. After a few minutes I knew that it wasn’t going to get magically warmer so, taking a few more minutes to bolster my courage, I wrapped the comforter around me as I got out of bed, heading straight for the radiator. When I hear the welcoming hisssssss, I silently apologized to the building for having cast dispersions upon it only minutes earlier instead of first ruling out user error, having obviously not turned the knob enough, or even at all, last night.

As I was already up, I changed into workout clothes, intending to head to the gym while my place warmed. I thoroughly washed my face as I waited for my coffee to brew. I was anxious to grab a thermos and be on my way.

I made the mistake of walking into my living room and seeing my pathetic not even halfway decorated tree. I’d been so exhausted at the end of each day that I never got any further than I had the night that Nick had come over for dinner. I did keep it in water, as I sure didn’t want to cause a fire, but that was about all I’d had energy for when I got home. I decided to change my plans for the day and headed for my bathroom to clean up. I wanted my tree, actually my whole apartment, if possible, decorated. It was while I was in the shower that I had the brilliant idea to do something that my mom and I had always talked about doing, but never did.

After I put my list together I headed for the store. Cranberries, popcorn, gingerbread and sugar cookie makings, candy canes, and wire and ribbon would help me transform my Christmas tree into an edible feast.

It was a little after noon when a couple of batches of gingerbread were cooling in the fridge and I’d pulled out the last of the sugar cookies from the oven. They needed to cool before I could decorate and string the pretty red and silver ribbon through the holes I’d made (I’d remembered them at the very last minute) to put up on the tree. I washed the cranberries and set them aside to dry while I strung popcorn. My mom and I had done this a couple of times when I was little and it was bringing up some sweet memories I had of her.

Christmas had been her favorite time of year. She loved cold but not frigid weather. She loved hats and mittens and thick woolen scarves. She loved finding the perfect winter coat for the year. Red and green and silver and gold and white: she always had on at least one of those colors every single day of her life. She always said that Christmas gave her the excuse to wear them all at once and no one could blink an eye. In fact, she’d been known to say, it made people happy. She loved making people happy. It was part of the reason she played the piano.

_My darling Vi,_ she’d say to me, _find something creative that makes you happy and share it with others to make them happy. It will bring you infinitely more joy than any career ever will._

I missed her music. It was crazy, but I missed it almost more than her. I think it was more that I missed it most at specific times. My birthday was one. One of her gifts to me, and one of my most treasured memories was when she would play Claire De Lune for me on my birthday. As a kid, I wasn’t all that appreciative. It wasn’t until after I’d turned 15 and quit modeling that I’d come to adore the gift that she gave me, year after year. It was when I began to learn about true beauty.

When Nick played I’ll Be Home For Christmas a little over a week ago, what he didn’t know was that it was the song that was my mother’s favorite, and the one that she’d play only once each year on Christmas Eve, right before we’d retire for the night. When I was small, Mom would play the song whenever I requested it, until the year right before I turned 11.

I’d ended that school semester with so-so grades. I was never a great student. Don’t get me wrong, I’m smart enough to get by, but I’m no Einstein. That was the year I had mostly B’s and C’s. The only A I had was in art. I loved art, everything about it. It was where I felt the most connected to any of the stuff I was studying. It’s what held my interest. I could work on a picture or a story or listen to music for hours or compare two poems. If I had my way, I would have been a painter, but that would have required talent, which I had very little of.

Anyway. I got more C’s than B’s and I was down and I kept asking Mom to play Be Home (that’s what I called it) and she did. She indulged me, time and again.

And then the song started to lose some of its magic. That’s when she decided that she would only play it once on Christmas Eve, and that’s why I hadn’t heard it in almost two years. She died two days before. So yeah, the song was my Mom’s favorite, but it was also special and there were so many memories tied to it. That’s why I’d had tears when Nick played it.

And he played the hell out of it! Mom would have really liked his playing. I think she probably would have wanted to play with him. She would have liked that he made me eat last night, too. It’s not that I wouldn’t have eaten, but I probably would have just had some peanut butter from the jar or a couple of eggs sunny-side up and some toast. Ooo, that sounds good.

Anyway…

I was stringing popcorn and listening to Christmas songs, doing what I could to keep the Christmas spirit and not sink into missing my Mom when a knock on my door caught my attention. I invited Nick in right as the timer letting me know my gingerbread had been in the fridge long enough.

“You sure are busy doing something over here. I thought you might need a hand?”

“Oh just admit it, Nick. You can’t get enough of my wit. You want some hot cocoa?” I mirrored his grin as he answered with an enthusiastic “yeah”. He was exactly what I needed to keep the blues away.

I was pouring his mug when I realized I needed to know something. I called out to the other room. “With or without marshmallows?”

“With of course. I don’t trust people who take it without.”

I dropped several on top of his drink and headed into the living room. “That’s an interesting philosophy. Care to elaborate?”

“Has to do with not liking sugar. I’m joking, of course, but most people I know who don’t like marshmallows have lost touch with their inner child. I like excitement and exuberance and stuff. Like this popcorn garland. That’s something a kid would do.” He blew on his cocoa to cool it down.

“Are you calling me a child?”

“You are most definitely not a child.”

“Good. I was afraid I was going to have to throw out my only friend, well, not my only friend my closest friend, wait, not close as in close, but you just live next door. What? What is that look for?”

He finally recovered from laughing to respond. “You’re just funny, backtracking like that. As your closest friend, I’d like to offer you some help.”

“Help doing what?”

“Decorating.”

“You want to help decorate my place?” When he answered with only a nod, I couldn’t help asking, “why?”

“I’m not going to make it home this year, and Mom does the whole house, you know, a tree and garland and lights and stockings, and I always help. It’s part of my Christmas with my family and I don’t get that and this might help me feel less like I’m alone.”

I was glad I suppressed the laughter that was in my throat. I heard a familiar note in his voice, one that I knew others heard in mine: longing. Wanting something you can’t have is tough, especially during a holiday. Nick was lucky as this was a one-time thing for him. It didn’t mean his pain was any less.

I silently padded over to where he was and slipped my hand in his.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you down.”

Poor guy. I tugged on his arm and turned him towards me. I gave that teddy bear a big hug.

“I was only planning on decorating my tree and if I had any extra time I’d think about what to do the rest of my place. Today’s really all I have for decorating until Christmas Eve. But, if you help me out I can probably get it done faster and maybe I’ll figure out what else to do. What do you say, want to spend the day here? I’m making all my ornaments and it would be a huge help if you’d stick around.”

I felt his shoulders settle with his next breath. I was glad he’d relaxed.

“Wait, you’re making your ornaments? I don’t know that I’m that good.”

I let go and took a step back, hoping I could encourage him to stick around.

“How about you let me be the judge of that? I bet you can string popcorn.”

I was happy to see his smile.

“That I can do.”

“And if you can do that, then I bet you can string cranberries. They’ll be a little tougher, but the popcorn will be a good practice run. By the time you’re done with those, hopefully I’ll have all the icing done and all the ornaments should be cooled or cooling.”

“Wait. You’re going to frost your ornaments?”

“I’ve always wanted to do this. This year, my tree is going to be edible. All the ornaments will either be gingerbread men or sugar cookies.”

His beauty took my breath away as his face lit up in a way that it hadn’t previously. His exuberance began to spill out of him.

“I begged my Mom for years to use cookies as ornaments, but she always refused.”

“Mine, too. We always talked about doing it, but we knew it would take a full day to do it right and we just never had the time. You game?”

“Absolutely!”

“Everything you need is over there, and I’ll be in the kitchen. Let me know when you’re done and we’ll put the garland on the tree. Deal?”

“Deal. I appreciate you letting me butt in on your day off.”

“No worries. Now get to work.”

I turned the music up a little and headed to the kitchen. With the addition of a helper, my decorating just got a little more complicated. I needed to get to work myself.


	5. Chapter 5

I’d just put the last batch into the oven and set the timer when Nick called to me from the other room. It wasn’t the first time he called.

The first time, he’d summoned me to gauge my reaction to his choice of kernel. He’d actually taken time to sort them into piles: unpopped, partially popped, and fully popped. I think he was wondering if he’d be allowed to eat the partially popped. I grabbed a handful, told him to use his judgment, and spun on my heel, crunching away as I exited.

The second time he tricked me into heading into the living room, he had me check on the spacing between the kernels on the line. I played along and gave him my undivided attention, for about 30 seconds, before telling him he needed to smush the kernels together. I headed back to the kitchen.

The third time was a charm, or rather, a garland. When we put it on the tree (yeah yeah, I know it’s supposed to go last, but I needed to know I didn’t need more), Nick kept trying to convince me that I needed more garland because he kept winding it tightly and it would leave the bottom third of the tree bare. When I corrected it, he complained about all the holes. I laughed as I turned, heading back to the kitchen.

“You don’t care how bare your tree is going to look?”

“Silly boy, come with me.”

I heard his brisk step to catch up and when he rounded the corner, he actually whistled.

“Don’t tell me you’ve done all this today.”

There were cookies everywhere, and several bowls of icing: red and green and blue and white, lots of white. I had smaller bowls of silver and gold, meant only for drawing designs on the cookies. I had white ribbons on the table in the other room that would be used once the icing was dry.

“You saw me last night. Do you think I did any of this after I got home?”

“No, I think you did exactly what you said you were going to do.”

“What did I say?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No, sorry, I think the food coma hit pretty quickly. Remind me?”

“Well, from the picture you painted, you were going to walk in and close the door.”

“Yeah…”

“Then you were going to disrobe.”

It started to come back to me, and I was amused as to just how brazen I’d been. That was so not like me.

“Yep, I did that.”

“And then you got into bed.”

I enjoyed it as his eyes traveled first south, then slowly back north, taking me in.

“Right again.”

“And now I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

I felt the need to take a step back when he approached me. His voice, softer and lower when he spoke, drew me in.

“What were you wearing?”

“Wearing?” I knew exactly what I was doing. And so did he.

“When you got into bed.”

I resisted the urge to stare at his lips, his soft cherry-red lips that were begging to be suckled and kissed…

Where was I? Oh, yeah.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

I loved the twitch of his lips. He was doing everything he could to stay in control. I think he was holding on by his fingernails. Maybe I could push him over the edge.

“Not a stitch. No t-shirt, no pj’s, no babydoll, no lingerie.” He was far too in control. I leaned in and whispered, conspiratorially, “I was nekkid.”

“Nekkid?”

“Mhm, as the day I was born.”

It was funny, I could have sworn that it wasn’t until after he closed his eyes that his eyebrows twitched. His tongue was thick when he finally responded.

“I would have liked to have seen that.”

And now, for the dousing in cold water.

“You have to earn that privilege.”

His eyes snapped open. “How do I do that?”

“Helping today is a good start. I have the cranberries on the kitchen table. They’re ready to be strung.”

“Allow me.”

I was happy to have him seated and working on the second garland. I pulled out a bunch of pastry bags and tips and quickly organized my work space, getting some of each color into a bag before pulling out spatulas, one for each color so I could start icing each cookie.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone with a setup as elaborate as this.”

“What do you mean?”

“All those bags and the spatulas and so much frosting I don’t-“

“Now hold on there. That’s not frosting. It’s icing.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Are you crazy? I’ll have you know-” My tirade was cut short when I whirled around to address him directly and saw that he was trying to keep a straight face but couldn’t. “Are you trying to get a rise out of me? Because that’s not exactly ‘earning that privilege’.”

“Oh come one, you know I was just teasing you.” He got up from the table and took the two steps necessary to stand in front of me. “You’re adorable when you get, well, not angry so much as frustrated.”

I was pretty sure I failed to school my expression when he tucked my hair behind my ear.

“See, you get this flush of color. It’s not much. I’m sure most people wouldn’t notice the extra bit of pink on your cheeks, but the giveaway is your ears. They get extra pink. Your eyes, though. They’re gorgeous. They flash green. And see, now, they’re changing to amber.”

I, oh I was in trouble. I took one step back and turned my attention back to my cookies. I grabbed a spatula and began icing the group sitting in front of me. Nick watched for about half a minute before he took up the garland making. The scent of clean laundry followed him back to the table and was replaced by sugar and vanilla and cinnamon. My head cleared almost immediately.

“You know, you don’t have to stick around. I can do that.”

“You trying to get rid of me now?”

“No. I just didn’t want you to feel obligated if you have someplace else to be.”

“No place until tonight. We’re booked pretty solid with the holidays.”

That got my attention.

“You’re booked solid? What do you do?”

“I am in a jazz band.”

I should have known. I mean, I guess he could have been in an orchestra or, I don’t know, some sort of old-timey kinda band. But jazz made the most sense.

He’d sounded so proud and I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything.

My mom used to play with someone. It changed once she had me, she couldn’t very well be on the road with a child, at least, not once I was in school. This thing, I think it was a real longing for what she’d given up when she had me, happened a couple times each year and I’d find her in our living room with all the albums out on the floor. She’d be listening for something in particular in each song that she put on. I learned early on to close my bedroom door. It was distressing, seeing my Mom cry like that, especially knowing I was the cause.

She did get to play every now and again, and once I finished school I tried to get her to pick it back up. I wanted her to follow her dream and be happy. She told me her time had passed, that she didn’t want to go back on the road. But, with me old enough to leave home alone at night, she did pick up some gigs every now and again. She was happier.

“Earth to Vi. Violet, are you okay?”

Nick finally broke through my trance.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking about all the cookies I have to ice.” I thought of the opening to that show that my Mom watched when she was younger, the 6 Million Dollar Man. At one point you can hear, on voiceover, “Eject! Eject eject eject!’ That level of panic was what I was feeling. “You must be pretty booked at this time of year.”

“Parties on the weekends, clubs during the week. I’m looking forward to Christmas day.”

“Well, I know you’re not going to be with your family. What about your girlfriend’s?”

I didn’t understand the look on his face until he spoke.

“Do you really think I’d flirt with you if I had a girlfriend?”

I felt awful. He resumed stringing the cranberries. When he didn’t say anything, I went back to the cookies. It was silent for much longer than I wanted, which is to say it was for only a few minutes. I’d obviously made a huge mistake.

“What makes you think I have a girlfriend?”

“Good looking guy like you? I just assumed you did. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

I was done with the red icing so I took the opportunity and grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, setting one on the table in front of him.

“I obviously made a huge mistake. I wasn’t saying anything about you-“

“Were you hurt by some asshole? You know, not all guys are the same.”

“No, no, that’s not it. It’s just-” I stopped just in time. That was close.

“Just what?”

“Nothing.” I turned back around, busying myself with my beer and my cookies. “How are the cranberries coming?”

I held my breath, hoping he’d play along. When I heard the chair scraping on the floor, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. I wasn’t anywhere close to prepared.

“What were you going to say?”

Oh, God, he was right behind me.

“It’s not important.”

“I think it is, or you wouldn’t have stopped.”

He was too smart for my own good. I figured it might end up being less painful if I just ripped off the Band-Aid.

“It’s just, in my experience, all the good guys are taken.”

“I don’t think I’m such a good guy.”

That surprised me. When I spun around I found him only inches away. His frown lines told me he was serious. I wanted to reach up and comfort him like he had me. I’m not going to lie: I also wanted to feel his beard and see if it felt as soft as it looked.

“You have been with me. You’ve let me cry on your shoulder more times than I should be allowed. And you fed me. And you’re here helping me decorate. All good things in my book.”

Now, I’m not a betting woman, and for good reason: I suck. See, take this situation. There had been tons of flirting going on and hell, I’d just called him a good guy – something pretty much every woman wants. Granted, we’d only been in each other’s company on a couple of occasions, but I would have sworn there was a mutual attraction. Plus, we were in a cozy setting and he was so close. His soft lips were just a neck stretch (and maybe a head grab, too) away. It was the perfect setting.

Or not.

He took a step away and turned back to the table. He grabbed the bottle and took a long pull from his beer, making me thirsty in the process.

“I’ll be right back. I need to go get something.”

Several quick steps and I heard my front door open and close. He was gone?

What the hell?


	6. Chapter 6

I was dumbfounded. Seriously, what just happened? I took a couple of steps, intent upon following him and finding out what was up, and then stopped. What right did I have to be upset? Hell, I’d been the one to insult him.

I headed back to the kitchen. I had so many cookies I had to ice and then decorate. I wasn’t going to let my own ridiculous mouth get me down. I needed my holiday to be as cheery as possible.

I grabbed the green icing, smelling the spearmint I’d put in for a little bit of flavor, and continued icing cookies. I was about half-way done with the several dozen I’d set aside for this color when I heard my front door open.

“Hello?”

“I’m back.” I was relieved it was Nick who answered. “Do me a favor?”

“Okay.”

“You don’t know what it is, and you agree?”

“Why not? I already told you, I know you’re a good guy, Nick.”

He caught my eye when he poked his head around the corner.

“Thanks. Stay in here, okay?”

“You’re not stealing all my stuff, are you?” Any residual tension was released as he laughed at my question. “What, are all my worldly possessions that awful?”

“No, no. I just love that brain of yours. Just stay in here. I’m taking care of a few things. I’ll be back to finish up the cranberries in a couple of minutes.”

I couldn’t resist his twinkly eyes. Have I said I was in trouble?

“Okay.”

His grin got even wider. I finally exhaled when he left.

I did what I could to concentrate on the work in front of me, but it was damn difficult. I heard noises and tried to figure out what he was doing. I know he was close to the front door, and then over by the tree, I think. I thought he was coming back into the kitchen, but no. I did not know what he was doing. Then, my music stopped.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m adding some other tunes into the mix for a little while. Is that okay?”

“As long as it’s not country.” I didn’t have anything against country, but one year I’d worked at a store that played nothing but country versions of Christmas songs and I’d had enough. If I was forced to hear Let It Snow! by that one artist, I don’t think I’d be held accountable for my actions.

By the time Nick came back in, I’d heard Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole, and Judy Garland was just finishing up.

“So, what did you do to my place?”

“I’m not telling. You need to experience it yourself.”

I turned to head out but he stopped me.

“I’m not quite ready for you to head out there yet. Can you give me a few minutes?”

“What, are you somehow part of the experience?”

Have I mentioned how hot this guy is? Dude has a smirk that will kill you, will literally stop your heart.

“Maybe.”

His voice playing the pied piper, summoning you to him.

“Look at you, being all coy and cute.”

It was all I could think about. Had he not turned away, I don’t know what would have happened at that moment.

I went on autopilot and finished with the cookies in front of me before starting on the last batch with the lemon-flavored white icing. About the time he finished with the cranberries I finished with the cookies.

“Before you ask if it’s okay to head out there, I have a favor to ask.”

“This’ll be your second favor, you do realize that, right?”

His chuckle put a smile on my face.

“I do now. I’d like to decorate some of the cookies. Is that okay?”

“We can do that after-”

“Unless you don’t like what I’ve done and throw me out.”

“It’s that bad?”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s beautiful, actually, but if you don’t like it, well, you never know.”

I knew what my answer was going to be, but decided to let him sweat it out a bit. He’d had me on edge so much that I didn’t know which way was up. I needed him like that, too.

I checked on the cookies as I headed to the fridge for another beer. They were ready for the next stage. I grabbed a couple of bottles, extending my arm out behind me to hand them to him as I picked up the pastry bags.

“Have you ever used a pastry bag?” I was pretty sure the answer was going to be-

“No. Is there anything special to it?”

“Steady pressure is the best. You need to get a feel for the bag and what it does. Let me grab some parchment and have you play with it for a few minutes. If you don’t get the hang of it that’s fine. We’ll figure something out for you to do.”

I demonstrated a few things: lines, dots, writing, ruffles, that kind of stuff, and handed the bag over to him. I watched and was impressed with how quickly he picked it up. In only a couple of minutes he had nice, even lines.

“Do you want to do the gingerbread men?”

“You’ll trust me with those?”

I pondered that for a second before answering.

“Sure, why not. If they’re really bad, you can take them home, and if they’re just, like, missing an eye or something, I can always use them as filler.”

“But wait, won’t the flavors clash?”

He’d just made my whole day.

“Well, ginger and lemon actually go together, as can lemon and mint, but definitely not lemon and cinnamon. Not everyone likes their flavors to be combined, though, so the icing in the bags isn’t flavored.”

“Everyone… are you having people over this week?”

“No! I’m working pretty much straight through to Christmas Eve. I’m not going to have energy for people to come over.”

He took a tray of gingerbread men to the table and started to create faces and shirts and pants. It was funny, watching as he realized something was missing and then going back to make sure they were identical. I was impressed with his attention to detail.

I lined trays up, side by side, so I could use one pastry bag at a time and keep the color distribution as even as possible. I worked one row of each color before I put on accents in gold or silver. I was happy with my progression. It took a little while for me to realize I was squinting and I almost turned on the overhead light and then I glanced up to see how Nick was doing. He’d leaned back in his chair and was, I’m not even sure what I would call it. Gazing? No, more than that. Devouring. Yeah, he was devouring me. I opened my mouth to call him out on it and then my attention was drawn away.

Light was somehow dancing in the other room. It swayed back and forth and even pulsed, growing brighter before retreating.

“What’s going on-”

“I was wondering when you’d notice that. Are you ready to go see what I’ve done?”

I got this rush, you know, feeling like my whole body was filled with hummingbirds zooming all around, wings going so fast they are nothing but a blur. I felt like I was six and in pigtails and pj’s and ready to come out to the living room on Christmas morning where my Mom would be waiting for me to come see what Santa brought. I settled down once I realized I was bouncing up and down on my toes.

“Can I? Really?”

“Actually…”

He was getting a kick out of my frustration, I could tell.

“You know you’re trying my patience.”

“I have one more favor. You game?”

“Oh God, what now?”

“Close your eyes? Let me lead you out there? Will you do that for me?”

I took one step back and regarded him. I wanted to see if he’d crack under a bit of scrutiny. Lucky for him, he didn’t.

Lucky for me, too.

I washed and dried my hands as he made some sort of last minute adjustment in the other room. I had no idea what I was about to walk into, but I didn’t want to inadvertently dirty anything up. I folded the cloth and put it in the handle of the stove only to turn around and find Nick directly in front of me. He held out his hands and I put mine in them before closing my eyes. Those hummingbirds were back.

While he took care in guiding me out, we didn’t move at a snail’s pace. I was in my own apartment, after all. As we got to the living room, though, he did slow considerably. He let go of my hands once we stopped and that was unsettling: I couldn’t sense him, not right away, at least. I heard him behind me and then felt his hands on my shoulders and the hummingbirds that had begun to settle once again took flight.

“Okay, open your eyes.”

Several pillar candles had been placed randomly on the coffee table and what looked like a bouquet of lilies and gardenias and roses had been strewn around them. There were a couple of candles elsewhere in the room and since he’d closed the curtains, the lit candles were the only source of light. It was warm and inviting and intimate and simply lovely.

“This is beautiful. Why did we have to wait?”

“It was too light outside. The candles really couldn’t be seen earlier.”

He moved closer. I could feel the heat coming off his body and I was overwhelmed. I could register only him. I needed a different vantage point, one not so close. I took a few steps, needing the distance.

“Dance with me?”

I turned and every single hummingbird was now in my stomach as I could only repeat his question.

“Dance with you?”

“Yeah?”

I’d wondered, many times, just what it would be like to be held by him when I wasn’t crying. I retraced my steps, drawn back to him. I was getting my chance!

I took his hand and put it on my waist as I slid my other hand into his. He tugged on me, pulling me close and hugging my arm to him. The texture on his sweater encouraged me to burrow the tips of my fingers into the waffle pattern. I needed to be closer. I decided to stop holding back and lay my head on his shoulder. I was rewarded with the scent of soap and clean laundry. We swayed back and forth a few times and then my Mom’s song came on.

Seriously? I didn’t need any more reminders that she wasn’t with me any longer.

I stayed in the moment, this time and this place and I could have sworn, I felt my Mom kiss my forehead. Every emotion warred inside me before I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. I needed reality, though, and I grabbed and held onto Nick. He hummed his approval as we swayed and moved about the room, lost in the music. The song switched and I heard Ella Fitzgerald start in on Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas and hummed along until she stopped and we did, too.

“Look up.”

I tilted my head back, trying to cover for the quirk of my head from the shiver I got because of his whispered breath on my ear. I couldn’t make out what was overhead, given the dim lighting in the room.

“What’s that?”

“Mistletoe.”


	7. Chapter 7

First kisses are never all that. I mean, seriously, all the fumbling.

_Where do you put your hands?_  
_How much pressure?_  
 _How tense or loose do you keep your lips?_  
 _Do you let your tongue out to play or keep it chaste?_  
 _Do you completely hold your breath or breathe just a little or a lot?_  
 _Is one person in charge or do you both get turns, and for that matter, do you really care?_  
 _Not to mention, what the heck do you do with your bodies?_  
 _How close do you hold him?_  
 _What are you allowed to touch, to grab, to fondle, to clench?_  
 _If you start off standing, do you stay standing?_  
 _What about the wall?_  
 _If you sit, are you allowed to straddle him?_  
 _Are you allowed to do more than just press your bodies?_  
 _How long is too long?_  
 _How short is too short?_  
 _Is it going to lead anywhere?_  
 _How far are you willing to go?_

It’s not to say they can’t be magical, because they sure can be. The first time you’re in an intimate embrace, and that’s the purpose of holding him. Wondering if he has his hands on your face and neck so he can feel your heartbeat, see if he’s doing something right. Feeling him holding back, being respectful, and letting you set the pace. That is, until he can’t hold back any longer. When you can feel his jaw tremble, just. When you feel his hand edge around behind your head because you’ve been kissing long enough for him to know that you want to be there with him, but it’ll kill him if you pull away too soon. When he holds the rest of you close, so close, and you easily feel his heartbeat racing, just like yours, and you wonder if he can feel yours.

When the attraction and the flirting and the loneliness give way to something more. When you drop all the pretense and just be in the moment.

And kiss… 

* * *

Nick searched my eyes, looking for a sign that I didn’t want him to kiss me. Or maybe that I wanted him to kiss me.

“Mistletoe? You put mistletoe up in my place?”

“I told you, perfect excuse.”

He still hesitated. I was pretty sure he realized he didn’t actually want to kiss me, until I felt his hands on my face, cupping my chin and holding me in place. He didn’t rush, but he didn’t move super slow, either. His lips pressed against mine and we stayed like that for a bit. Neither of us moved all that much. I know I was taking stock, noting how his lips were soft and supple and warm, further noting how any movement from me caused his grip to be ever so slightly more.

He changed, though, when the faintest of moans came out of me. The kiss became more urgent, but not to the point of passion. We were still testing the waters, seeing what the other person liked. He was the first to explore and learned that soft, warm kisses pressed to my throat elicited a soft sigh, and when his teeth scraped over the same flesh, the sounds from me became more, I don’t know, primal? They certainly got louder.

I learned that I could bring him to a halt with one barely there touch of the shell of his right ear. It lasted only about ten seconds, and if I’d known I could have that kind of effect I would have tried so many things in those moments before he came to, picked me up, and carried me to the couch where he sat us down, me straddling him.

We regarded each other, searching for, well, I’m not sure. When I realized I finally had an excuse and I could touch his face, his beard, I was amazed by its softness. I gently scraped my nails over his jaw. The purring that came out of him stopped as soon as I touched his gorgeous lips with my nails. His laughter was sudden and he caught my wrists, pinning my arms behind my back. I watched as he scraped his teeth over his lips, quelling the tickle I’d created. That gave me an idea.

I ducked in before he knew what I was doing, suckling his earlobe. He again halted all movement as his breath left him. This time, I was ready. Eyes half-closed, I was the one who kissed him this time. He gripped my wrist tighter when he felt my teeth gently scraping along his flesh before I took hold and gently tugged on his bottom lip. I felt his groan everywhere. He let go of my wrists and pulled on my behind, wanting the bottom half of me flush against him. I didn’t fight him. In fact, I helped.

He reached up, behind me, and grabbed hold of my hair, gently pulling my head back while he supported me. I pointed my chin away from him, opening myself to him completely. I was expecting, actually, I wasn’t expecting anything. I was expecting something though.

But that’s not what I got.

He let go of my hair and stopped. He helped me to sit back up and let his arms come to rest at my waist. I don’t know what he was searching for, and I don’t know if he found it.

“Vi, I don’t want us to do any more than we’re doing right now, at least, not for today. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Something was on my mind, though. “Did I-”

He silenced me, his fingers on my lips.

“No talking.”

“Oka-”

“Sh.” His eyes hadn’t left mine. Was he still searching? “I can think of at least one far better use for your mouth.” He smirked as one of his hands traveled up my back and gently pressed me forward. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Kiss me, Vi.”

I got all warm and fuzzy and gooey and I melted. Like he’d done when we first kissed, I started soft, maybe even a little tentative. My kisses were short, sometimes just a peck but most of the time there was a bit of lingering. Noses rubbing, breath shared, I took my time. I’d been settling into a groove with Nick, finding that comfort zone where kissing was easy, natural even.

That was when his kisses changed.

He clenched me to him, holding me in place as he took over. It was subtle, as in he didn’t let me break a kiss until he was ready. There was the slightest bit of movement as our bodies pressed against each other. I felt all of him, as in, I felt _all of him_. I liked what I felt. I really liked when I finally felt his tongue, felt him asking for permission. I thought that it might be fun to do the teeniest amount of teasing, and then I thought better. I’d probably wanted this as much as he had, possibly more.

He wasn’t like most of the other guys who flirted with me. I use the term ‘guys’ because while they might be adults, they certainly weren’t men. They’d paw and grab and make remarks. I heard them. I heard what they’d say about me. I knew what they thought.

Nick was different, though. I mean, granted, he wasn’t around his friends, but he’d been in my place, and I’d been in his. And there’d been tons of flirting, and I’d seen the way he looked at me, but, well, he’d respected me. I’d even say that he’d courted me, if only just a little. Hell, the candles and the flowers and the dancing and the mistletoe were the most romantic thing anyone had ever done.

My body came alive when I felt his tongue slide gently past my lips. This was another way I knew he was different. He didn’t try to occupy my mouth. Rather it was fleeting. A touch here, a caress there. It took no time at all to be overwhelmed and dizzy and desperate for air. I pulled back, panting, gulping in oxygen and wanting nothing more than to continue.

“Are you okay?”

Concern. Concern for me.

“Yeah. I’m just, overwhelmed is all.”

“I’m sorry.”

That would absolutely not do. Not at all. I grabbed his face and stared into his eyes.

“Don’t even think about apologizing. Your kisses are perfect.”

“They are?”

“Dude! All I want to do is sit here and kiss you for the rest of the night.”

I loved making him laugh.

“I don’t have the rest of the night.” He checked his watch and I felt his groan. “I have only about half an hour before I have to go.”

“You working tonight?”

“Yeah. It’s a private party, or I’d invite you to come hear us.”

“Some other time?”

He smiled at me before he answered.

“It’s a date.”

It was my turn to smile.

“You want to go on a date? With me?”

“Yeah.”

I needed to kiss him. I’d gone from holding back in the kissing department to wanting to do nothing but kiss this man. I gave him a quick peck before every time I spoke.

“When?”

“Well, Duke has us booked almost every night to New Year’s.”

“Are you booked Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah. But not Christmas.”

I had an idea. I wondered if he’d go for it.

“Do you want to come over for Christmas dinner?”

Why did his smiles make me melt?

“I’d like that. I’ll bring the wine?”

“Deal. How late do you work Christmas Eve?”

“I’ll check the schedule tonight. Why?”

I didn’t know if I’d be able to do it this year. Having someone else with me would be a big help.

“So, it’s tradition for me, I mean, normally it is. I missed it last year. I’m not Catholic, but I go to Midnight Mass. My Mom found it to be so pretty and uplifting. You’re welcome to join me if you want.”

I felt his arms tighten.

“I like that. If I’m free, I’d love to go with you.”

“If you can’t make it, I understand.”

“I’ll know more after tonight.” It had gotten to a point where neither of us could stop kissing the other.

“You know, I think we have two options for things to do right now, you know, before you have to leave.”

“Right now? What are they?”

I knew what I wanted the answer to be. I was pretty sure I knew what his answer would be, too.

“Well, there are cookies that still need to be decorated.”

“Yes, that is very true.” He reached up and pulled on the back of my head, bringing me so close I could feel his whisper. “What’s the other option?”

My fingers found his chin and I tugged his mouth slightly open before I kissed him. There were almost no other words spoken before he left.


	8. Chapter 8

When I left early the following morning, I found a note taped to my door from Nick.

 _Good morning, beautiful!_  
_I hope you got the remainder of your cookie decorating done (and I am not even close to being sorry that I sidetracked you) and you slept well. Maybe we’ll see each other in person before Christmas Eve. I hope so. I’d really like to see your smile and hear your giggle and look into your gorgeous eyes._  
_I miss your lips._  
_So, Christmas Eve…_  
_Our gig isn’t private, so if you want to come watch you’re more than welcome to and in fact I’d like you to. We’re supposed to be done sometime between 9 and 10, but it could go later. I don’t know where we are in relation to the church you want to visit for Midnight Mass, but I imagine that we’d be able to make it there in plenty of time. I know you’re working that day, but I don’t know how late so not sure if you’d be too tired to come out and listen. Just think about it, okay?  
_ _N_

Goodness but my hummingbirds were back. I grabbed a pen from my purse and quickly jotted a reply before sticking it onto his door.

 _Hey there handsome!_  
_I have no idea what time it’ll be when you get this. I hope last night was awesome and that you are well rested. I got most of the cookies done but wasn’t able to get them hung since they needed to dry. I’ll do some each night when I get home until they are all hung._  
_I miss your hands tugging on me and holding me close._  
_Christmas Eve: I hope to make it. I don’t know how tired I’ll be. I’ll know better closer to the day. At a minimum, I should be able to come out for at least the last few songs and we can head out from wherever you’re playing. While I have a favorite church I like to go to, I’m sure there will be one nearby if it’s too far away._  
_By the way, it was the absolute nicest surprise to see your note on my door today._  
_I’ll see you soon.  
_ _Vi_

I had a spring in my step for the whole day. Everyone I passed on the street got at least a smile and those who smiled back got a ‘Happy Holidays’. I know some people want you to say ‘Merry Christmas’ and I get that, but it’s rather presumptuous to assume that everyone you cross paths with is a Christian, especially in the melting pot that is New York. So, if they answered with a Happy Holidays then that was it. If, however, they answered with a Merry Christmas or a Happy Chanukah, or Happy Kwanzaa, then I’d return their greeting. I just wanted everyone to be as happy as I was.

Serena was back to work and Samantha would take a few extra days so I volunteered to fill in wherever necessary. I know I’d complained quite a bit (to myself, not out loud) and had been exhausted, but, truth be told: I’d made tons of money. I wanted to keep making it like I had been.

Right after lunch I had some woman ask for me by description (‘I was told the really skinny girl would be back today and I could really use her help’). I was busy with another customer and was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t throw a fit and demand that I help her immediately.

She picked my brain for what her daughter would like and what she’d look good in. She had some pictures of a teen who seemed to be bored and grumpy. I could most definitely relate.

Just like whoever I’d seen on Sunday, this woman was trying to buy her daughter’s affections. I gently tried to nudge her in the direction of spending time with her daughter, but all I got in return was a bunch of questions about how I stayed so thin. I’d learned, over the years, to lie. I told her I ate well balanced meals and worked out diligently, that I saw my doctor regularly and knew I was healthy. I had no special secret.

Except I did. It was genetics, pure and simple. It really sucked. I’m not going to even go into how many times someone called Child Protective Services on my Mom thinking that she wasn’t feeding me (entirely too many times).

Anyway, people didn’t like hearing that I didn’t have to work hard to be as thin as I was so I told them what they wanted to hear.

I helped her and she was on her way. I got the evil eye from a couple of other staff since she was the second woman to buy a ton of clothes from me in a matter of days. I acted as if I didn’t care, but it hurt.

The rest of my day was uneventful and when I was finally able to leave I was looking forward to a hot bath. I was halfway down my block when I recalled the previous night and ended with a bounce in my step. It helped me to climb the flight of stairs. I saw I had another note taped to my door and my heart started racing.

 _Good evening, Beautiful,_  
_Like you, I was happy to get your note. What are you up to tonight? Do you think you might get your decorating done? I can’t wait to see the finished tree._  
_I don’t want you to feel pressured to come out Christmas Eve to see me play. Only if you feel up to it, okay?_  
_What time do you leave for work in the morning?  
_ _N_

I replied:

 _Hi Nick,_  
_Last question first: I try to leave about 7:30, that way if I oversleep and don’t have time to make coffee I can grab some on the way to work. If I do have time, then it means I don’t have to rush to get there. I always prefer not rushing, but lately that’s all I’ve been doing._  
_Tonight? I’m hoping to get all the ribbons on the cookies and get them hung. How likely is that? Probably not going to happen. I’ll be happy if I get half of it done. I’m beat. I’m going to soak in the tub first so I might fall asleep while hanging the ornaments._  
_What do you do during the day when everyone else is at work?_  
_You’re going to spoil me with these notes.  
_ _Vi_

I did soak in the tub and I got about half the ribbons on and about a third of those made it to the tree before I crashed for the night. I considered it a success.

Just like I’d written, I was running a little late the following morning and was locking my door, a little sad because there had been no note from Nick. I couldn’t expect him to write me every day. At least I knew he’d seen mine to him.

I just about hit someone who was coming in as I was leaving our building.

“I am so sorry, please- Nick! Are you just getting home?”

“From running an errand. Morning, Violet.”

I had no idea that he could be so sexy at 7:35. Maybe it was his hair looking like he’d just woken up. Maybe it was the extra bit of beard.

“I wish I could stay and chat, but I gotta go-”

“Get some coffee?” He held up a to-go cup and a bag. “I guessed that you didn’t have time for breakfast, either. Bagel?”

“Yes, please! I could kiss you.”

“I will accept that as a down-payment.”

I happily obliged him as we kissed hello. We lingered for a while on the stoop (I discovered that he’d already had some coffee that morning) before I finally pulled away.

“While I would love to stay here and do this all day, I do need to get to work.”

He took the bag back from me and grabbed my hand.

“How about I walk you?”

“Don’t you need to go to bed?”

“I got time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, unless you don’t want me to walk you.”

“I’d love for you to. Come on.”

We headed the couple of blocks to the station, hand in hand at first, before he put his arm around me. I was getting nice and warm from the inside out. We were almost at the station before he spoke.

“You know, I think it’s going to be Christmas Day.”

“What is?”

He pulled me out of the way of the foot traffic and slowed us down. “Before we have enough time to talk about your pictures.”

“You still want to talk about them?”

“Of course I do, I want you to show them to me. I want to see them through your eyes, your gorgeous eyes.” Hummingbirds in my stomach were fast becoming the norm around this man. “Now, I know you need to get going. I’ll see how I’m doing and if I’m not too tired, I’ll see you again tomorrow morning. Would you like that?”

“Yes, of course I would, but-”

“Nope. No but’s. I know what I can handle, and I know I can’t handle not seeing you for nine days. Even if it’s just five minutes in the morning, I at least get to see you.”

I removed my glove with my teeth and cupped his face. I saw his eyes roll back before he closed them, nuzzling into my hand.

“I don’t know why you’re so nice to me, Nick.”

“I’m just being me. I’m nothing special.”

I gave him a quick kiss, which he prolonged. I had to tear myself away before I called in sick.

“Thanks for the coffee, and see you soon.”

“No. See you tomorrow.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Wait, I’m not going to see you tomorrow?”

I couldn’t stand to see his sad eyes.

“No, I mean yes, you are. You’re wrong about being nothing special. You’re special to me.”

By the time I got to work, I’d hatched a plan. I was going to be the one to surprise him.


	9. Chapter 9

I had no idea what time it was when I felt Nick pick me up.

I’d wanted to surprise him, just like he’d done for me, so I’d been listening for his footsteps in the hall. I’d gotten home a little early and finished the decorating and took a nap, intending to greet him when he got home. I didn’t want to fall asleep and miss him, so I ended up wrapping a blanket around me and sitting in front of his door sometime after 2:30. Next thing I knew, he’d picked me up.

“Hey, beautiful, got your keys?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you have your keys?”

“S’open.”

“Don’t even tell me you left your door unlocked.”

“’Kay.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and snuggled.

I’m pretty sure that I drifted off again. Next thing that registered was being put on my bed. I felt it dip as he sat next to me.

“Why were you asleep in front of my door?”

“’Posed to be s’prise.”

I smiled at his chuckle.

“It was. I didn’t think I’d get to see you for a couple more hours. Speaking of which, you need your sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

I felt him stand up.

“No!”

“You don’t want to see me tomorrow?”

“Don’t leave.” I squinted my eye open and saw his outline in the dark. I grabbed for his hand and pulled on him. “Stay?”

“You need your sleep, beautiful.”

“Please? Sleep better with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“How about I just help you fall asleep?”

“’Kay.”

When Nick put his arm over my waist, I grabbed his hand, intertwining our fingers, and pulled it up so I was hugging his forearm. He snuggled in nice and close, giving me that extra bit of warmth that put me right over the edge. I was asleep in no time at all.

Luckily, I’d had the good sense to set my alarm before I’d ended up in the hallway last night, or, I guess it was this morning. I silenced the musical tones and felt his arm tighten around my waist. Although I was now wide awake, there was no way I was getting out of bed.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

Three little whispered words, that’s all it took to put a smile on my face.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?”

“I really did intend to go home.”

“I don’t mind.” He swept my hair out of the way and kissed my neck as I stretched my head. “I don’t mind in the least.”

His movement slowed.

“I don’t want to, but I should stop. I need to let you get ready for work.”

“No!” I turned over as quickly as I could. “You’re so warm. You’re like my personal hot water bottle.”

“Is that all I’m good for? Keeping you warm?”

“Nope. You’re good for many things.”

“Like?”

I decided to see what kind of a person he was first thing in the morning.

“You’re very good at stringing cranberries, for one.”

His bark of laughter told me so much about him, but I still didn’t know him all that well so I didn’t want to push it too much.

“What else?”

“You are kind.”

“That doesn’t do anything, though.”

“Mmm. Disagree.”

“But what does that make me good for?”

How could I make him see it?

“It makes you a person who leads by example. You show kindness to others and the more you do that, the more others see it, the happier they are and the happier they make others.”

I wasn’t sure he was a morning person. I mean, not that I am, but I’ve had to fake it on many an occasion, like school and work. He didn’t say anything right away.

“Is that how you see me?”

Why did I always have to go opening my mouth and screwing everything up? I needed him to know-

“But it’s a good thing, I swear!”

“Sh.”

“Nick-”

“No. We’ll have none of that. Come on, sugar, I know it’s a good thing.”

“You do?” _Sugar?_  Oh my goomess (trust me, I know I sound like a kid, but Mom had never liked swearing). I really needed to calm down, but I didn’t think I ever would. I needed to find out his deep, dark secret, and fast. Did he steal lollipops from little children? Did he tell them the lie that Santa Clause isn’t real (because he totally is real and I’ll fight you if you disagree)? I needed him to have a major flaw because if not? “And on top of all of that, you’re really talented.”

There. Now I’d done it. He had that look, that ‘she believes in me’ look and it would always be there, anytime I looked at his face I’d see it. It would always be there.

“Now come on, there’s no way that you’re going to tell me that I’m the first person to ever tell you that. I mean, you play professionally.”

His nod gave me some comfort.

“I really like it, though, coming from you.”

I closed my eyes and snuggled in to him. After a year of no hugs, and Mom had been a hugger, I was trying to make up for lost time. Also, something was bugging me and I needed to know…

“Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“I need to ask you a question, but I don’t want you to get mad.”

Pretty sure anytime you tell someone that you don’t want them to get mad that they will automatically tense up. Nick was no exception.

“Okay.”

“Why are you single?”

“What?”

“You’re a good man. Why aren’t you seeing someone?”

I know it was a loaded question, but hell, he was a good man, at least, what he’d already shown me. I couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t been nabbed by some woman.

“But I am.”

“Oh.” I don’t think I’ve ever had my bubble burst as completely as it was in that moment.

“Listen to you. ‘Oh’. I’m seeing you.”

“You’re not seeing someone else?”

“Nope, only you.” He gave me a quick peck on the tip of my nose before continuing. “I think I need to get out of your hair so you can get ready for work. How about I go get you a coffee and a bagel.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to. I don’t want you rushing off. I’d rather spend some time with you.”

“You’re going to spoil me.”

“I want to do that, too.”

* * *

 

By the time he was back I was dressed and ready to go. I was even early. Knowing you’re going to be spending some time with a good person before you go to work is great motivation for getting ready.

As we sat at my kitchen table eating the bagels and drinking the coffee, he made me promise not to wait up for him again. I kept trying to find a way to talk my way out of it, but he wasn’t having any of it. I told him that I didn’t want him to be getting up early and interrupting his sleep. Neither of us promised anything, but we understood.

Rather than have Nick accompany me on a leisurely stroll to the station again, we stood under the mistletoe and got caught up in kissing each other. He was the stronger of the two of us and made me head off to work. One of these days we’d be able to spend the whole day with each other.

Wait, that was going to be Christmas! On my way in I realized I needed to start planning the food for the day. Mom and I always had duck for Christmas, but maybe he didn’t like duck. I’d need to find out. I needed to find out if he had any favorites or traditions that he wanted. Some people were particular about what they ate on holidays. I had no idea if he was that kind of person.

I began to put together some possible menus for the day. I didn’t know if he was going to be over all day or just for the meal or maybe not at all.

I was so preoccupied with all the things I could do that I barely paid attention to the people I helped. Several times I had to mentally slap myself to get me to pay attention to the customers.

I was getting ready to head out when a woman I’d never seen before asked for me by name. It took all of about 30 seconds for me to realize she was another of those mothers I’d been helping. I had to find out what was going on.

“You are the third woman to ask for me and then tell me about a daughter you have but don’t spend enough time with.”

“Now hold on there-” 

I’d obviously hit a nerve and needed to backpedal. 

“Please, wait, I’m not judging you. _You_ basically told me that you don’t spend time with her. I don’t know what you do, but-”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Okay, so, you’re super busy. I get it. Maybe you’re a single mom like my Mom was. And even if you’re not, that’s okay, too. But take it from me, your daughter would rather have your time than things. Maybe you put it on your calendar to have dinner one night a week? Or maybe it’s once every two weeks, or once a month. Just, you know, whenever you can.”

“Was?”

It took me a second to realize that was all she was going to say.

“I’m sorry, was what?”

“You said your Mom was, is she not…?”

This conversation took a turn that I hadn’t expected. All I could do was shake my head.

“How long ago?”

“It’ll be a year in a couple of days.”

“I see. Was she sick?”

I don’t know why, but it all came out of me rather suddenly.

“No, no. She was caught in the crossfire of a jewelry store robbery. There was an off duty cop there-”

“I heard about that. Everyone heard about that. The engagement ring. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

I took a couple of deep breaths and began to blink rapidly, hoping to keep the tears at bay. Deflection was probably going to be the only thing that would stop the spiral that I felt beginning.

“I want to apologize. With the anniversary coming up, everything is fresh in my mind and I think it’s really the reason that I got into your business. Your life is your life. I just know that I’d give everything I have, which, there’s not much left, but I’d give it all to have just one more day with her.” 

I shook off what had come to the surface. I knew she’d be able to see right through me, so I didn’t try to grin my way out of this one, but a slight smile was called for. 

“So, you want to get some beautiful things for your daughter to wear. Tell me about her.”

* * *

 

It took a few hours, but I was able to get her taken care of. She gave me her card and told me to call her if I ever needed anything. I think she felt sorry for me. She had me write my name on the back of her card so she’d have my name handy. When she left she told me to expect a couple more women who were in the same situation (apparently they all worked in firms in the same building, all with daughters around the same age, and they’d have lunch every few months and commiserate). I thanked her, wished her a Merry Christmas (since she’d let it slip that they had traditions of caroling and Christmas tree decorating) and she was on her way. I followed a few minutes after and headed home.

I stopped off a couple of places along the way, grabbing a few essentials, and by the time I was home I had my note for Nick ready to tape to his door.

_Nick,_  
_I did as you asked and didn’t wait up for you. I did, however, put something under your door._  
_I thought about it a lot while I was at work today, and I know I liked falling asleep with you. I also really liked waking up to you. I completely understand if you’d rather not, but I put a copy of my key under your door. If you want to come in and sleep with me (as in sleep sleep, not that other stuff - wink wink nudge nudge say no more) you are more than welcome to, but I’ll understand if you prefer your own place._  
_Also, I bought some bagels and coffee from the coffee shop and brought them home, so please don’t go spending your money on me. If you don’t want to sleep here but want to eat breakfast with me, please come over. I’d really love to spend time with you. No pressure, but it’s the highlight of my day.  
_ _Vi_

Before I could chicken out, I slid my key under his door. There was no turning back.


	10. Chapter 10

****When I woke and was alone the next morning, I knew what Nick had decided. I was disappointed and maybe even a little hurt (okay, okay fine, I was hurt). I let myself wallow while I made the coffee. I was going to need to be able to be okay in front of him when he came over for breakfast. I needed to live up to what I’d written, that I would understand if he preferred his own place.

I got ready and toasted my bagel, waiting for the knock on my door before I’d start to toast his. I know I always preferred my bagel to still be warm when I ate it and I’m sure he felt the same way.

The knock never came.

He had to have been tired. The past couple of mornings he’d interrupted his sleep for me. He’d headed down and stood in line and brought back coffee and food for me. Who knows how long it would take him to get to sleep after being up and active. He’d been incredibly generous and I’d loved our time together, our stolen moments. I felt selfish and guilty, wanting him to wake up and come join me. I shook off my disappointment as I pulled on my coat, hat and gloves and left.

I was surprised when I glanced at his door and saw my note still taped to it. Okay, surprised isn’t the word. I stopped and headed over to the door and raised my hand to knock and stopped short. An unread note meant he probably wasn’t home so he wouldn’t answer the door, and even if he was home he was probably asleep and knocking would only wake him up and why on earth would I do that to him?

On my way into the store, I thought back over our conversations about his schedule. He hadn’t mentioned anything about staying overnight somewhere, but that didn’t mean that this was a surprise. Except it was. He hadn’t mentioned it, not in any of our conversations, not even the one the previous morning.

Plans can easily change, though, right? I mean, that’s what I thought. It’s what I concentrated on. He could have crashed at someone’s place, he could have met up with friends. He could’ve met a woman.

Coulda shoulda woulda…

Any number of things could have happened. I did my best to stop my mind and luckily we were busy so I didn’t have many opportunities for my brain to run away with what might have happened.

After lunch I had another of those mothers. I asked her how many more to the group there were who I might end up helping and she laughed. She introduced herself as Marge and let me know there were still a couple of mothers to go. She told me that Jenifer (the first woman I’d helped) had sung my praises and that Claudette, the woman yesterday, had sent a note out to the group, telling them about what had happened to me. It appeared that they felt sorry for me and that they wanted to help me out.

While I’m not one for charity (don’t get me wrong, I love to give where I can, I just don’t feel right receiving when there are people in the world who need so much more than I do), I didn’t look at this as a hand out. They were buying things and I happened to be the person who helped them. And it wasn’t like they came into the store and spent five minutes looking and bought something. I was spending a significant amount of time with each woman. So, it wasn’t charity. Doesn’t mean that it didn’t feel like it was charity.

She and I talked about what happened after Mom died, about how the place I’d worked wasn’t very forgiving when I used up the bereavement days and the remainder of my vacation time and still needed time to deal with her death. I mean what, do they think you’re just going to bounce back? Well, I guess they did because they let me go.

And then it had been hard to find a job. So many places wanted to know why I’d been let go and I didn’t want sympathy, I’d just wanted a job, so I didn’t tell them why, just that I’d needed extra time off. It didn’t seem to be the best way to go since I didn’t get any offers.

Marge and I talked about my move and my friend’s couch and my current place. She asked if I had anyone special in my life and she could tell, before I even tried to answer that I didn’t, that I did. She tried to get me to talk about Nick, but I couldn’t. I didn’t have a claim on him, he wasn’t mine. He absolutely was special, and in my life. Or maybe not. I wasn’t sure, especially after this morning, or not knowing, or, seriously, I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I wanted him in my life and I really wanted him to be special, I just didn’t know if that was what he wanted. I thought- oh for crying out loud. I needed to stop thinking and just wait until I saw Nick again.

I hated waiting.

Marge did some real damage to her checkbook before she handed me her business card and reassured me I could contact her with anything. Another woman offering support. I wasn’t sure what was going on with them. Did they feel sorry for me? Had I somehow become their pet? I decided to wait and see what the next woman who arrived would do.

I spent the rest of my time helping customers, but only when all the other associates were busy. I wanted everyone to have a decent Christmas and not be concerned about making ends meet after the holidays were over. I was also preoccupied with thoughts of Nick. I tried not to let my mind run to the dark side, but it appeared it wanted to go there. Wondering why he’d been out all night when he hadn’t mentioned it had me thinking all kind of thoughts. I was able to push them out of my head for short periods of time, but they always reared their ugly heads yet again.

I took the opportunity when Dot, my manager, told me I could leave if I wanted and while I didn’t want-I wanted to keep my mind occupied for as long as possible-I left for the day. I had to face reality sooner or later.

By the time I got home, a few bags in hand from running some errands, I was dreading what I might find on his door. I wasn’t sure what would be worse: finding he’d read my note or it still being taped to his door.

Time to pay the piper: the note was gone.

Well, at least I knew he was home, or he had been at some point. Maybe he’d waited for me to leave that morning? There was no note on my door, but that didn’t mean anything, right? When I walked in I checked my floor for my key, just in case he’d slid it under. Nothing there, so maybe he was going to come over tonight?

I put all groceries away and began getting undressed, entering my bedroom with my shoes in hand and my blouse untucked and unbuttoned when I turned on the light and stopped halfway to my closet.

Nick was fast asleep on my bed. I wasn’t sure what to make of him being there, but I felt myself relax. I quickly changed into sweats and padded to the side of the bed. It was well past the time I would expect that he should have been, at a minimum, en route to where he’d be playing tonight. _Should I wake him?_

Why did he smell like smoke? Wha-

Just then my phone rang and I hurried to it so it wouldn’t wake him. I didn’t recognize the number so I silenced my phone and let it go to voice mail. I walked back into my bedroom to find Nick stirring.

“Don’t you have a gig tonight?”

“No, cancelled.”

It sounded like he had a handful of gravel stuck in his throat.

“Are you okay?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You sound… awful, and you smell like smoke.”

“I still smell like smoke?”

“Yeah, what happened? Are you okay?”

“C’mere.”

He scooched back and patted the bed. Once I was on it, he pulled me to him and we hugged. His silence wouldn’t have scared me so much if he didn’t have the smell of a fire clinging to him.

“What’s wrong, Nick?”

“Nothing. Not now, anyway.”

His words were not reassuring me.

“Not now? What happened?”

“I’m fine. I am, really.”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

He hugged me tighter and I couldn’t get away from the smoky stench. I was going to have to change my bedding.

“Please, Nick, what’s going on? It’s Friday night and you aren’t playing?”

“We can’t play. Saul’s drums need to be replaced and we all needed sleep after last night.”

I thought that if I stayed silent maybe, maybe Nick would continue. I didn’t want to be a nag so I chose this route. It finally worked after a few minutes.

“The club we were in last night had a fire. Everyone’s okay, no one’s hurt. We were able to get everyone out, but the club was pretty much gutted.”

Numb. I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t feel him, his clothes under my hands or his arms wrapped around me. I couldn’t feel my own breath, or my heartbeat. I wasn’t sure I was even there, in the room with him. I could taste the smoke, smell the stench of carbon from the wood and debris that had been consumed in the fire. And the lingering acrid plastic burned my eyes and nose and throat, made it hard to breathe, hard to swallow. It felt like I was in the middle of the fire, like _he_ was on fire.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m okay.”

I didn’t hear the words through the crackling of the flames in my head. When I looked up at him and saw the concern on his face, concern for me-even with everything _he’d_ been through-I finally felt everything, including the tears on my face. He reassured me he was alive with his kisses, with his arms holding me and legs wrapped around me. I felt his chest expand with his breath and any semblance of normalcy, of me simply shedding tears because he was alive, was gone.

The dam broke.

_Jesus, another person I cared for and I almost lost him. Mom last year, Nick this year: was I jinxed?_

I sobbed and clung to him as if my life depended upon it. In a lot of ways it did. I could only hope I’d survive.


	11. Chapter 11

****Nick headed back to his place to take another shower while I changed the bed linens. I hoped to get rid of the stench that didn’t want to leave my bedroom. Or my nose.

It had taken me a while to calm down after I let the floodgates open. I was scared; hell, I’m still scared. I lost Mom to some crazy happenstance last year and now Nick had what I was calling his close call, but he wasn’t. I hadn’t shared it with him, what had happened to Mom, but could you blame me? I was afraid of opening up, of being vulnerable, of being _pitied_. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. It was that I didn’t trust the universe. Things had been taken away from me. First it was Mom, then my job, my apartment, and my friend when she left for Hollywood. The universe took everything from me. Hell, the fire almost took my-

What was he to me?

None of that now. I needed to change the sheets and I needed a shower. Nick was coming back over and we were going to have dinner and relax and, I assumed, talk. I was sure he was going to do what he could to reassure me, and I understood, I really did. I was pretty sure that I was being irrational.

Pretty sure.

Everything on my bed was now freshly laundered, and damn, my laundry schedule was now out the window. I’d have to recalculate and I was going to need to smell Nick and make him shower again if I could still smell it.

I stuck my clothes and the linens in my laundry bag and then put it in a garbage bag, sealing it. I couldn’t have it, that awful stench, creeping out of the bag. I took my shower, getting rid of the last of the charred smell. I’m sure I was in the shower for far longer than I needed to be, but I couldn’t have any of that smell lingering.

I was out and toweling off when Nick let me know he was back and sticking our dinner in the oven, whatever it was (it was his choice since I wasn’t all that hungry). I asked him to grab a beer for me and we had an awkward moment when, as he handed me the bottle, I realized I was only in a towel. It took him a couple of tries to break through my reverie.

“Can you?”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Can you still smell the smoke?”

I sniffed the air.

“I don’t think so.”

He closed the gap between us and ducked the couple of inches necessary for us to be eye to eye.

“If it’s still around, it’s probably in my hair. Check again?”

He was gentle with me, his hand on my lower back as I leaned into him, my hands on his chest to steady myself. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Was it still there, the faintest of smells? No, my mind was playing tricks on me, wasn’t it? I exhaled and inhaled one more time, this time burying my face in his neck as I wrapped my arms around him. It would have taken an idiot not to see that I needed to be held, reassured. Luckily, Nick wasn’t one.

Having him in my arms let me know he was here and alive and yet…

And yet.

I couldn’t let go of him. My brain was trying to play tricks on me and anytime I thought of letting go, the words _he’ll disappear_ danced and flitted about in my head. We were in that embrace for a while when I started to shiver. The heat had gone off and I was still in just a towel.

“Vi, how about you go get dressed so we can get you warm again. Does that sound good?”

“Maybe.”

“What, you like being cold?”

“Gives me an excuse to snuggle up to you.”

“You never need an excuse to snuggle with me. Now, how about you get clothes on, I’ll serve us dinner, and we can relax. We can snuggle once we’re done eating.”

“I’m not hungry, but if you want to eat please don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re getting a plate anyway. You like Indian?”

“Garlic naan?”

I was happy when he nodded.

“I got some samosas, too. I wasn’t sure what else you might like so I got some biryani.”

“Veg? Chicken?”

“Chicken. You need some protein.”

I gave him a quick kiss before heading to my closet.

“I had a turkey club today.” I couldn’t hide my irritation. Great, on top of everything else we were going to have _that_ conversation. I didn’t need this.

“Violet, I know you eat. Hell, you ate half that pizza-”

“I was tired of all the sugar, and I was hungry.”

“I know you don’t starve yourself, I’ve seen you eat, and unless you hide it really well, you’re not bulimic.”

I hated those words: starve and bulimic. I hated other words, too. Gun and bullet and robbery and death. And sorry.

The latest to be added to my list? Fire.

Wait, had he been researching this stuff? Was I going to have to-

“How do you know about this stuff?”

“Sister of a friend back in high school.”

Good. Wait, I don’t mean good that he had a friend, but, oh for crying out loud, I’d never dig myself out of this hole.

“Okay, well, I don’t have an eating disorder. I really wish-”

“Violet, stop, please.” I always loved it when he put his hand on my face. “I know you don’t. I just don’t want you to be starving half an hour after we eat. That’s all.”

He sounded sincere, and I wanted to believe him. I was happy, no, that’s not even close to the right word. I was ecstatic that he was safe. I wasn’t happy that he wasn’t working tonight, because I knew he was counting on the money, but I was happy he was with me.

“Okay. I’ll be right out.”

“Are you upset? About the whole food thing?”

“Yes, I mean no, not really. Can we just let it go for now?” Crisis delayed, maybe averted? “Let me get dressed and I’ll be right out.”

* * *

 

We were quiet as we ate, both of us lost in thought. Mom, the fire, work, those women: everything was all a jumbled mess in my head. The two that fought for attention loudest were the fire and Mom.

I knew I hadn’t been fair to Nick. He didn’t understand why I always had such a strong reaction to things: I’ll Be Home For Christmas, Vi, the fire. Everything led back to Mom. I needed to let him know about her, but I didn’t want sympathy. No, that’s not right. Sympathy was okay, it was pity I didn’t want.

I’d cleared everything away and we had beers and were relaxed on the couch. He’d swung me around so my feet were on his lap. He was massaging my feet and I swore I was in heaven.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

My whole body seized up when I heard those words.

“So, I was talking to Max a couple of days ago. He told me he was happy to see you with a bounce in your step, but he did tell me that if I hurt you that he’d put a hit out on me.”

“He did not!” I couldn’t help the laughter coming out of me. Max was hilarious.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Well, that was very sweet of him.”

“I think he actually knows people.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Nick tugged on my feet and then moved and maneuvered us and he was on top of me. I was pretty sure it was panic he saw on my face.

“No, that’s not what I want. Well, it is, but not right now. I mean, we’re not ready for this.” He gave me the sweetest kiss and then we hugged.

“I know about the 21st, sweetie.”

“What?”

“I know about your mom. I am so sorry.”

When was I going to stop crying? Was it only going to take someone else mentioning her for me to lose it? Would it always be the case that I’d be a blubbering mess if someone said to me _I’m sorry_?

I didn’t know about always, but I sure wasn’t past it yet, at least, that’s what anyone would figure, given how much I was crying. It took entirely too long to get my waterworks under control.

“You’ve been all alone this past year, haven’t you?”

If I tried to speak, I’d lose it all over again. I hoped he felt my nod.

“You’re really missing her, aren’t you?”

I don’t know if Nick caught any of what came out of my mouth. I was a blubbering mess.

“Favorite time” sob sob “called me Vi” blubber “Be Home For” wail “musician” a bit more sobbing “decorating” incoherent noise “fire”…

He held me the whole time. I probably blew out his ear drum, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t shut up. I had to get the words out of me, even if he couldn’t understand me. Hell, I couldn’t understand me.

For the third time since I first saw him in my bed tonight, I stopped sobbing. I was pretty sure I was all cried out. My breathing back to normal was, I guess, what he’d been waiting for. He sat us both up and pulled me onto his lap.

“You’ve been holding that in for entirely too long, haven’t you?”

I nodded before I spoke up. “I need to go wash my face.”

I took longer than was really necessary in the bathroom. Every time I thought about how hysterical I got, well, distracted. Embarrassed!

I knew I’d been dawdling and wasn’t surprised when I saw Nick leaning against the door jam. He held my beer out to me and I waved him off. I needed water.

I still dawdled. I took my time changing my shirt and then had to change my leggings so they’d be a better match. In the kitchen I took a full minute to decide on which glass I was going to use for the water. I drank a whole glass before I realized I hadn’t yet washed the dishes in the sink, so naturally I had to do those. Sure, I could have just rinsed them off and stuck them in the tiny apartment dishwasher I had, but who knew how long it would be before I ran a load and any food would be permanently stuck to the surface so I just had to wash them.

Nick knew I was stalling. He saved me from the embarrassment of having to face him in the living room when I felt one arm on my waist as his hand reached around to turn off the water. My frenzied activity stopped as I leaned back into him.

“I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about. We can just turn off all the lights and look at the tree if you want.”

He made things so easy for me.

“I’d like that. I’ll be in in a minute.”

“Take your time.” He gave me a kiss on my neck before heading back to the living room.

* * *

 

We spent the rest of the night with the lights off, staring at the Christmas tree. A couple of memories cropped up and I resisted the urge to talk about them. He hadn’t known Mom so it felt like it would have been an imposition.

And then one particular Christmas cropped up and I had to share.

I told him how I’d decided to quit modeling ( _wait, you modeled? I am a human hangar after all. Please don’t talk about yourself like that. And that’s why I quit._ ) right before the holiday and how Mom and I took a couple of extra days and celebrated. She took me to a spa and we did some touristy things (museums and such) and we tossed all the modeling shit I’d had ( _wait, they made you get on a scale? Yeah, every day, and I had a certain weight I had to maintain. What was it? About five pounds less than where I am now. Fuck! I know, right?_ ) and we bought some clothes and we made a gingerbread house and all kinds of cookies and I slept and ate and slept and ate and slept some more and was happy.

After that, little by little, I told him things about my Mom: the kind of woman she was, things she taught me, advice she gave. How she’d laugh at the stupidest jokes ( _why is 6 afraid of 7? because 7 8 9_ ) and she could get anyone to laugh right along with her. How she’d brush my hair and braid it and play with it. How often she hugged and kissed me.

He asked if I was missing her more each day, or less.

So, so much more, worse and worse each day. I didn’t like putting a burden on Nick, but the only bright spot to each day that helped me cope with the upcoming anniversary was when he was around. I let it slip and was immediately sorry.

“Please, forget I said anything.”

I knew I was going to have trouble when I saw him shake his head.

“I wouldn’t, even if I could.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You already told me this. You put it in your note, the one you left when you put your key under my door. I’m the highlight of your day, remember?”

I should have known better than to put that note under his door. What had I been thinking?

“I forgot about that. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t!”

I started to get up. I needed air. He grabbed for my hand, not letting me off the couch.

“Please! Don’t go.” I sat back down but my embarrassment kept me from making eye contact. Instead, I watched his hands as he spoke. “Violet, didn’t it ever occur to you that maybe I like being the highlight of your day?”

Now why on earth would I have ever thought that?

“Why would you?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” I no longer had a choice since he chucked me under the chin to get me to look at him. “I like you, and because you’re the highlight of my day, too.”

I was pretty sure that my feet would never touch the ground again.

“Would you do me a favor, Vi?”

“What?”

“Get over here and snuggle with me. I want to kiss you and you’re making it awfully difficult, sitting all the way over there.”

After only the briefest hesitation, I scrambled to his side where I remained for the rest of the night.


	12. Chapter 12

****Saturday and Sunday were typical days, if by typical you mean working your butt off, helping people to buy overpriced things, and coming home dog-tired to an empty apartment. Nick came over after he worked Saturday. I woke up when he stuck his foot between my legs and pulled one back between his. He kissed me goodnight and spooned me and we fell fast asleep. In the morning we had coffee and a bagel and a chat before he headed back to his place when I went to work.

Sunday. I had a conversation with my boss on Sunday. She knew what the next day was and was concerned. I don’t think her concern had so much to do with me as it did in not wanting me to screw up her sales. We both agreed that it would probably be best for me to stay home Monday. I say we both agreed, but really she’d decided. I couldn’t blame her. I felt like I’d been strung into some sort of instrument and all it would take was someone plucking me or poking me one too many times the wrong way and I’d snap in two.

I don’t know how, but I held it together. I wasn’t going to let the customers who couldn’t make up their minds get to me. My trek home was difficult. I vowed that the people who were window shopping and not paying attention to everyone on the sidewalk and causing massive traffic jams weren’t going to get me down. I was good until I was about half a block from home. It was older kids, boys, picking on a girl about half their size that cause me to lose it. Whoever had come up with the term ‘boys will be boys’ was just a lazy parent as far as Mom had been concerned. _Manners come from discipline and when there is a lack of manners then there is a lack of discipline_ was something she said on more than one occasion. I hadn’t appreciated what she meant until I was older. Pretty sure she was right.

I stepped in, if by stepping in I mean I turned into a shrill she-beast and yelled the boys into submission while I urged the girl to run home.

Max happened by right at that time, lucky for everyone. He got me away from the boys and all the people who’d stopped to pay attention to the walking clothes hangar yelling at boys who could snap her like a twig. He got me home and calmed down enough so that I started to question what kind of a person I was. Who would do something like that? Seriously, when were tears going to stop falling?

Max asked me if Nick was treating me well and was happy when I told him that he was. He apologized to me, which I didn’t understand, until he mentioned that he thought I’d told Nick about my mom.

I panicked. That’s the only word for it: panic. I was about to lose it and I desperately needed to be alone. I ushered him out, thanking him for everything. He saw the tears start to fall and tried to stay, tried to comfort me, but I was able to fend him off. After I closed the door I grabbed the Kleenex, undressed, and got into bed, crying myself to sleep. I knew the next 24 hours were going to be a blast.

I woke, like I had the night before, when Nick got into my bed. I turned to face him and even in the dark I think he could sense my pain. We hugged and he let me cry myself to sleep with no interference from him. He knew what I needed, just to be held, while I dealt with my grief. He was my guardian angel.

I hadn’t set my alarm since I wasn’t working so when Nick woke me with an _aren’t you supposed to be at work already_ , I responded with a quick _day off_ and snuggled in close and promptly fell asleep.

When I woke, he was getting back in bed. I tried to talk through my yawn.

“You don’t have to stay here, you can go back to your place, get some sleep.”

“No other place I’d rather be. Coffee’s on.”

“You wouldn’t think I’d need it with how much I slept.”

He settled next to me.

“Why don’t you close your eyes, get some more sleep if you’re still tired.”

I played that old game that guys play, the one where they stretch and put their arm around the girl. Only we weren’t sitting next to each other so when I finished stretching my arm went around his waist.

“And if I don’t feel like sleeping anymore?”

I tried smiling, but he saw right through my act. His warm hands brushed the hair from my face. I tried again, my smile softer.

“You don’t need to pretend, you’re safe with me.”

It hadn’t worked.

“What do you mean?”

His sigh told me everything.

“You don’t have to hide what you’re really feeling. I know today is painful. You’ll have good memories hit and you’ll feel sad because you can’t share them with her. Today is going to be really tough. You don’t need to put on a smile because I’m here. You can feel everything you need to feel about today and not worry about me.”

Can you have tear ducts surgically removed?

“I’m here for you, Violet.”

Once more, waterworks.

* * *

It was several hours later and we found ourselves on the couch in his apartment. I couldn’t be around my things, Mom’s things, the Christmas stuff, because it was just entirely too hard. Nick had grabbed his keys and left only to come back a few minutes later, pick me up, and take me back to his place. He’d deposited me on his couch and then grabbed a few essentials from my place.

It was surprising how much it helped, being in different surroundings. Not a single place that I looked was I reminded of Mom. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t on my mind, but at least I wasn’t overwhelmed everywhere I turned, not like I would have been at home.

We ended up on the couch. I was half laying on Nick as he did what he could to distract me, telling me stories about how he’d been pre-med and how he found his love of music drove him far more than wanting to be a doctor. He told me about how he’d been aimless for a few years before coming to New York for a shot with the band he played with. He told me about the craziest night and trying to help a woman who’d had the worst luck imaginable get home to her husband.

He kept skirting around something, though, and I could tell it was important.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“What do you mean?”

I considered dropping it and I might have if I wasn’t looking for a distraction.

“There’s something that you’re tiptoeing around and I think you want to tell me. What, did you have a thing with the married woman? I don’t judge people so-”

“No, no, I didn’t. Well, we flirted and we kissed, once, but nothing more than that.”

“Okay. It just, well, it feels like there’s more than that.”

“There is, there was.”

Was it going to be pulling teeth for him to tell me? Maybe it wasn’t my business.

“If you’d rather not-”

“I hadn’t seen her in a long time.”

“Who’s that?”

“Hannah.”

His pause dragged on. I didn’t want to pry, but if he wanted to share-

“I hadn’t seen her for a while, for six years. It felt like no time had passed, but it was a completely different lifetime.”

I heard it. She was _the one that got away_. She was the love of his life. Now it all made sense, why he’d held back. He was still in love with her.

I never even had anywhere close to a chance of anything more than what we were doing, keeping company. This was so much harder than I thought it would be.

I only half listened as he told their story, or however much of their story he was going to tell. As he told me about meeting and moving in and almost proposing and waiting six years for her, I died a little with each word. I knew I’d been wishing and hoping that there would be something more between us than flirting and kissing, and now I knew that’s all we’d ever be. At least he hadn’t taken advantage of the situation, of me and how vulnerable I’d been. He’d been such a good man.

That made me want him all that much more. I wanted him in my life and I knew I wouldn’t have him, that this would be just some fling to him as he waited for Hanna to come back to him. I needed to shut things down with him.

As he continued to tell me about seeing Hanna, I formulated a plan. I realized I couldn’t make it too obvious or he’d protest. First, I needed to find my key.

“Earth to Vi, what’s wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing, just… thinking.”

He kissed my forehead as he gave me a big squeeze.

“And here I am going on and on about crap that doesn’t mean anything anymore.”

“I’d prefer to listen to you instead of the stuff going on in my head. Tell me another story.”

“About?”

“I don’t care, anything.” I’d done my best, but I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice.

“Violet, tell me what I’ve done.”

I sat up and toyed with the idea of telling him that I got the hint, that we’d never be anything more than this, and that it was okay. But if I did that then this would be the single worst day of my life. I’d have to self-medicate anytime the 21st came around and I didn’t know if I’d be able to live through another one. I tried to get up but he was too fast for me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Were my tears ever going to stop?

“Home.”

“I promise, only happy stories from here on out.”

Except, those happy stories would never include the two of us.

I had to get out of there. I didn’t say anything as I left.


	13. Chapter 13

****My door was locked and my key was back in Nick’s apartment. Ugh. I couldn’t go back. He’d want an explanation and I wouldn’t be able to give it to him without sending him on his merry (not-so-merry for me) way and I really didn’t want to do that, at least, not today. Then again maybe it would be better to have just one truly sucky day each year: pile all the shit onto that one day and then the rest of the year would be clean and easy. I just didn’t want it so close to my favorite holiday.

Plus, Mom deserved her own day. She’d been entirely too important to me for me to try to combine a day I use to remember her with anything else. I wanted to change the day from one of mourning to a day that I could celebrate her, but who knew if I’d ever be able to do that.

While I wasn’t in a hurry, I needed to get away from my door. I knew Nick was listening for me and would come out if he didn’t hear me leave or go into my place and I’d be forced into telling him what was going on and I just couldn’t handle that. I took a couple of flights down and knocked on the door at the bottom of the stairs, or I guess at the top: it just depended on which way you were going. I hoped Max was home. I heard movement, the shuffling of feet before I heard him unlock and open his door.

“Well hello, sugar. Don’t tell me you’re locked out again.”

I was pretty sure I was going to become dehydrated, given just how much I’d been crying over the past day.

“Come on in. Let me call the super for you.”

“No! Please, no.”

He clucked and stared at me, long and hard. It wasn’t a glare, more like he was trying to read my mind, figure out my problem. I still withered under his gaze.

“This sounds complicated. Why don’t you come in, we’ll have some good Turkish tea and you can tell me what’s going on.”

“You know I prefer milk in my tea.”

He took my hand and tugged me across his threshold.

“Sugar, you know I’ll always make an exception for you. Come, sit down. Do you need a blanket?”

His kindness was too much. He witnessed as what little façade I’d been able to muster melted away. He held out his arms and I felt desperate as I flung myself into them, bawling my eyes out.

He cooed softly, “sugar, I know today’s a tough day for you. Just let out all that hurt, you’ll feel better.”

That made it all that much worse. Sure, I was upset about Mom, but she wasn’t the cause of this particular flood. Soon I was seated on the sofa with tea in one hand and a handkerchief in another.

“Now tell me, where’s your fella? Why isn’t he taking care of you today?”

I couldn’t look him in the eye. I couldn’t let him see the depth of my pain.

“He’s not mine.”

Max took my hand and tried to give comfort, and he did, a little.

“Is he stepping out on you? Am I going to have to call-”

The vigorous shaking of my head stopped him from doing whatever he was getting ready to do. Maybe getting up to get his phone (or so I assumed) and make a phone call that I never wanted him to make on my behalf.

“I don’t understand. Help me understand, sugar.”

Why did I have to talk about this? The only thing I’d wanted when I knocked on Max’s door was to get a hug from one of the nicest men around.

Did you believe that, just now, about how I didn’t want anything else? You know, if I can’t even convince myself how on earth am I supposed to convince anyone else. I lied because what I really wanted was to hide, hide from everything and everyone. Max wasn’t going to let me hide, though.

“It’s not like I expected him to be in love with me, and that’s a good thing… since he’s in love with someone else.”

He started stroking my head and I melted a little. Somehow Max always knew what would calm me.

“I am so sorry. That’s got to hurt. You know, I’m going to have a conversation with that boy for leading you on.”

“No, please don’t do that. I’d rather just let this go.”

I was happy when Max let it go and stopped talking about it. All I wanted was to hide. He wasn’t done, though.

“When he and I talked, I didn’t pick up on him with some other girl. I know you’re not talking about Hannah, so I wonder who he is in love with?”

I almost screamed and barely got myself under control as I side-eyed him. It probably came out as a hiss, instead.

“Of course I’m talking about Hannah.”

“Thank God for that. I thought I was going to have to call a guy from my old neighborhood on him. Darlin’, he’s not in love with her.”

“Yes he is.”

“Violet, he used to be in love with her. He’s not anymore.”

“You didn’t hear him, Max. You didn’t hear how he talked about her.”

He went back to petting my hand. It almost felt like he was trying to control an out-of-control child. I wasn’t a child. I had my own place, I worked for a living, for crying out loud.

“I have heard him talk about her. More importantly, I’ve heard him talk about you.”

Max finally had my full attention.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw him, I think it was Wednesday morning, after you left. I asked him what was going on between you two.”

Did I want to know this? Did I want to prolong what I was dealing with?

“Why were you asking him about us?”

“Violet, you didn’t see me because you were completely preoccupied with him, but I saw you that morning, on your way to work. I saw the way you looked at him. You would have floated if a strong breeze had come along. And I saw the way he looked at you, it was clear he’d lay down his life for you if you asked, and I don’t even think he’d need to be asked.”

I couldn’t. I just couldn’t do this anymore.

“Look, I know you want to see me happy-”

“Hush.”

“Max, you weren’t upstairs just now! You didn’t hear-”

The look he gave me stopped me in my tracks and chilled me to the bone.

“Violet, you need to stop that tone and calm down.”

He’d never spoken to me like that; I’d never heard that tone from him, at least not directed at me. It was the tone he reserved for children misbehaving, or adults acting like children who were misbehaving, basically anyone misbehaving. I knew I was falling into the second group, but I couldn’t help it.

“Why do you think you know him better?”

“Because my emotions weren’t raw when he and I spoke.”

“But-”

“Did he tell you he’s still in love with her?”

“He didn’t have to. I heard it in his voice.”

“Sugar, you’ve decided everything with no proof.”

How dare he! I knew what I’d heard.

“What do you mean no proof, he bought her a ring.”

“Six years ago. He bought the ring six years ago. He didn’t buy it last week.”

I huffed a sigh, and promptly realized I’d never do that around Max again.

“Don’t you take that attitude with me. All I’m doing is pointing out the truth to you. You don’t get to be pissy with me for that.”

Mom would have been so ashamed of me. Max had been nothing but kind and thoughtful and solicitous and supportive. I broke when I realized how disappointed she would have been. It took a few minutes, but he was finally able to understand my apology through the sobs being torn from me. It wasn’t like I spent all that much time with him, but Max was the closest thing to family I had left. Knowing he was this upset with me, well, I couldn’t lose him. I was able to stop the sobs once I knew he’d heard me.

“I know today’s a tough day, sugar, but you’re letting your grief for your momma cloud your judgment. Has he been in love before? Yes, he has. Is he still in love with her? No, he’s not.”

“But-”

“I don’t know why you’re fighting me on this. Let me go get some tea.”

Why did he need fortification? Why was he delaying? My mind raced and raced and I couldn’t get it to stop. I got up to leave and realized I had no place I could go. I was locked out and Nick had my key, I didn’t have a coat so I couldn’t go outside. I guess I could have sat on the stairs but either Nick or Max would have found me. I could have tried pounding on the other doors in the building, but everyone was at work.

I couldn’t do anything except sit down and wait for Max and hope that he wasn’t going to tell me something that was going to hurt too much. I steadied my breathing as best as I could when I heard Max shuffling back into the room. I was sure he knew how anxious I was as he sat back down.

“Sugar, I need for you to listen to me. He’ll always have a special place in his heart for her, but he’s not in love with her anymore. He saw her this past year and knew it was over between them."

“I don’t understand. How do you know this?”

“He had the blues when he first moved in and I kinda took him in under my wing. He realized that it never would have worked between them and he felt like he’d wasted so much time.”

“What made him realize that?”

“I don’t know what he’s told you and what he hasn’t. I don’t want to betray a confidence with him like I did with you. I am comfortable saying that they are in different places in their lives. I can tell you that if they were together he wouldn’t be playing with Duke. Have you heard him play?”

That was a surprise. To hear that he wouldn’t be in a band, especially with how much he loved it, I couldn’t even imagine-

“Violet, have you heard him play?”

“Um, just him practicing, and he did play one song for me, and it was beautiful.”

“You haven’t heard him with the band?”

“I’m supposed to, Christmas Eve, if I’m up for it.”

“I recommend it. You need to hear him and understand how much of a loss it would be for the rest of us if he wasn’t playing.”

Something was gnawing at me.

“Wasn’t she the one who encouraged him to follow his dream?”

“She was.”

“Then why-”

“Sugar, life changes. You know better than most just how much it can change. I’m not saying he’s in love with you, although he might be falling for you. You are awfully pretty and you are just as sweet as can be when you’re not being as stubborn as a mule. What I’m saying is his heart doesn’t belong to someone else.”

I thought it over, everything that Max had said, all of it. It dawned on me that I’d missed Nick, missed spending time with him because of this stupid thought I’d had. I missed him.

“I need to go talk to him.”

“Are you sure? The anniversary-”

“You know what, I’ll be okay.”

Max didn’t want to let me leave, but he saw I was determined. I knew what I had to do and it was when I stood in front of Nick’s door that I almost chickened out. Instead of hightailing it out of there, I knocked on his door. I didn’t like what I was about to do, but it was needed. I was relieved when he opened the door.

“Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

I nodded as I walked in. I couldn’t look at him.

“We need to talk.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Nothing good ever comes after that statement, Vi. What could have happened in the past half hour?”

“I talked to Max-”

He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. I was desperate for him to stop touching me, because that was all I wanted: his hands on me.

“Don’t you dare tell me he’s warning you away from me.”

“No, he’s not.” I took a couple of steps and I didn’t feel the weight of his hand anymore.

“Okay, so then what’s wrong?”

I couldn’t do it, what needed to be done. I wasn’t strong enough.

“You know what? This was a mistake.”

I  turned and tried to leave but he was in my way. I knew I was moments away from screaming or crying or crumpling to the ground or _something_ , but I didn’t dare do any of that.

“Vi, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

How was I supposed to answer that question? On my way back up to Nick’s place, so many thoughts had rattled my brain that I thought it best to just stop, stop it all, stop everything. Maybe I could get away with not answering that question, wait for my stupid brain to quiet back down and for me to become reasonable again because right now all that was running through my head was _just leave and save yourself_.

“I’m not revoking my invitation for Christmas Eve and Christmas, but if you don’t want to come over, well, I don’t want you to feel obligated, feel that you have to come over, especially if you end up making plans with someone else, okay?”

_What the hell was wrong with me?_ I still hadn’t looked at him. I couldn’t. This hurt too much and I didn’t want him to think he needed to stick around if he didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be a burden to him.

He didn’t let me go around him. I tried, but he kept blocking my path. It wasn’t until he put both his hands on my shoulders and stopped me from moving that I stopped trying.

“Violet, what happened?”

I didn’t answer.

“What did Max tell you?”

“It’s not Max.”

“Okay. I’d really like to understand where this is coming from.”

I realized that since I’d already opened my big mouth, it’d be easier just to rip off the Band-aid.

“Hannah.”

It was clear I took him by surprise.

“What does she have to do with you not wanting me around for Christmas?”

“It’s not that I don’t want you around. I really do want you around.” I know he heard  it, that choking sound in my voice that could only mean I was fighting back tears. I didn’t want to become a blubbering mess once again. It was why I couldn’t look at him. And damn him for playing dirty.

His hands, either side of my face, cupped my jaw and cradled my head. I didn’t want to feel safe and secure near him, in his arms or hands. I had yet to make eye contact. I liked him entirely too much already and I didn’t want to fall any further under his spell. I knew I wouldn’t survive. I tried to pull away, but it was a futile effort.

“No. I am not letting you go. What the hell is going on in your head? Why do you think I don’t want to spend every waking moment with you?”

I closed my eyes when he tilted my head back. I didn’t trust myself; I’d crack. That was my mistake, and he seized the upper hand.

I don’t know how long it had been since we last kissed. I actually couldn’t remember our last kiss, and it would be a while before I remembered any kiss other than this one.

Unhurried. His movement was so slow. Molasses moved faster than his hands did as he held my head and his lips did as I felt their weight on mine. You know how you get lethargic during the dog days of summer, how it takes you an hour to move a foot, how leaves twitch only because there’s the slightest of breezes, and there isn’t enough of a current on any body of water to move a rowboat? That was the speed of light compared to him.

Thorough. I felt him everywhere. Hands and lips and arms and tongue and beard and torso and breath and legs and pelvis and _him_. He was so much, but I could handle it. I wanted to handle it. _I wanted to handle him_. He was intense, almost passionate. I was sure I was reading too much into it, and yet…

And yet.

Any doubts, any fears, any insecurities I had went straight out the window. Maybe my heart knew more than my head? Maybe Max had been right? Maybe Nick was over Hannah? He was sure kissing me like he was.

He let go of my face and I know I whimpered, but his hands moved down my arms, urging me to put them around his neck. When I did he picked me up and took the few steps needed to find his couch. I was prepared to straddle him; it had become a familiar position when we couldn’t get enough of each other, when we wanted to kiss and kiss and kiss some more. We were venturing into new territory when he laid me down. I was most definitely not prepared for him to lay on top of me, urging my legs open with a  knee, but he was so warm, so solid, so present.

He used his nose under my chin to urge me to tilt my head back. I loved his warm, lingering open-mouthed kisses. I got lost in his kisses, feeling his lips sliding over my skin, how his tongue would sometimes flick at a spot, eliciting a response. Sometimes it was my fingers digging in, sometimes I was tugging on him, wanting to feel more of him than I was-but the only way that could happen was if we had no clothes. I don’t know why, but I was starting to feel desperate. For some reason the word _goodbye_ entered my mind and that was all I could think. This was a goodbye, yet it felt so much like _hello_ , and even more like _please, stay a while_. I knew it wasn’t goodbye, but that stupid voice in my head kept nagging me, telling me it was over. Maybe my head knew more than my heart after all.

I think he felt my desperation. He was having a hard time understanding me and my actions. I was having a hard time understanding me.

“Is it your mom?”

I suddenly felt guilty: Nick was thinking of Mom and I wasn’t.

“Is what Mom?”

“Is she why you’re, I don’t know, scattered isn’t quite right, but something’s up with you. Is it because of today? Is it her?”

“It’s not her.”

“Then, what’s wrong?”

My head and heart were at war with each other. One was convinced things were going to keep happening with him, the other that things were going to come to a screeching halt.

Things did come to a screeching halt when Nick sat up. I followed suit with the intent of getting up but he stopped me.

“You don’t have to worry about her, Vi.”

Maybe he’d already guessed it?

“Who?”

“When you said you’d been to see Max I figured he’d told you about her, that I’m not in love with Hannah anymore.”

Yep, he had guessed. Then again, I’d all but told him.

“Why would I believe him after the way you went on and on about her? It’s clear to me you’re still in love with her.”

“Honey, you weren’t listening, were you? I knew you were too quiet when I was telling you about her. I should never have told you about her. Well, not never, but certainly not today. Will you listen to me now?”

I thought about saying no. I thought about heading back over to my place and crawling back into bed and pulling the covers over my head and trying to forget about the day. Nothing was working, though. My mouth wouldn’t open; my feet wouldn’t move.

“I do love her, I always will, but I’m not _in love_ with her. I realized this past summer, when I talked to Max about her, that I wasn’t in love with her anymore. Hannah has a whole life without me. She was pregnant when I saw her and now she’s married. They have a little girl.”

“Oh.” It sure would have been helpful if Max had told me that. Not that it would change how Nick felt about her, but-

“Max didn’t tell you about that part, did he?”

“No. He told me he didn’t want to tell your secrets.”

“Figures he’d clam up _after_ he told yours.”

Maybe, just maybe Max had been right.

“Here’s the thing. You wanted to know why I was single? I’ll tell you. I was in love with her, or thought I was, for so long that I didn’t know what my life looked like without her in it, or, no, that’s not right, more I didn’t know who I was if I wasn’t in love with her.”

“You couldn’t just turn that off, could you?”

“No, and I didn’t. It took a few months.”

“Just a few months?”

“Once I realized I was more in love with the idea of her, yeah, just a few months. I felt like such an idiot, like I’d wasted all that time, wondering _what if_. Look, the only reason I brought her up today was because you’d asked me why I was single. I know you were thinking there was something I was hiding, some really nasty part of me that you hadn’t seen yet. The reason I was single was because of her.”

I finally had my answer, and it made sense, too, but today had been too much for me, too much emotion, too much thought.

“I should go.”

“Why?”

“I just… it’s just-”

“Please stay.”

“You’re going to need to get ready soon.”

“No, I’m not working tonight.”

“But I thought-”

“Nope. Tonight was the club.”

It took a few seconds to understand what he meant - _the fire_.

“Oh, well, I’m sure you could use a night to yourself.”

“I don’t want to be by myself. I want to be with you. We can go get something to eat, or maybe some takeout, bring it back here.”

I wrinkled my nose and shook my head at the thought of food.

“I could make breakfast for dinner. Scrambled eggs and some toast?”

I knew he was concerned and he wasn’t going to let me be alone tonight. I didn’t deserve him; he was entirely too sweet to me.

“Maybe later for food?”

I looked up in time to see his thousand-watt smile give way to concern.

“And you’re staying here tonight. There’s too much of your mom in your place. I’ll make sure you get up in plenty of time for work tomorrow.”

I’d been outmaneuvered, and we both knew it.

We watched movies, though which ones I couldn’t tell you. I kept a close eye on the clock and when the time came, the actual time of Mom’s death, I stopped the movie and told him and he held me while I sobbed. I missed her something fierce. Nick held me for a long time after I’d finished crying. He knew what I needed without having to be told.

We went back to watching movies and snuggling on the couch and I eventually ate an egg and some toast. The darkness told me it was the middle of the night, but was probably only 6.

I felt the weight of my grief begin to lift as I sat with Nick, not paying attention to what was on the TV. Instead I was aware of him, of his arm around me, holding me close to his side. Of his lips when they’d press a chaste kiss to my forehead as my arm circled his waist and I curled up against him. I was suddenly lighter, lighter than I’d been in a long time. A lifetime, even.

I think that was why I fell asleep so suddenly. I have no idea how long I was out. I barely woke when I felt him carry me to bed. He crawled in with me and I felt myself truly relax for the first time in a year when he pulled me flush with him.

I knew I was lucky to have him in my life.


	15. Chapter 15

Tuesday and Wednesday were pretty much a blur, what with waking and breakfast with Nick, working, and then coming home zonked and sleeping. I used any downtime to plan what I’d make for Christmas day. I wanted to show Nick how much I appreciated him and all that he’d done for me.

Thursday morning finally rolled around and I woke, jumping out of bed to get a start to my day. I wanted my day to start so it could end, so I could be done with work for a couple of days and get some sleep and spend time with Nick and with my photography. I’d missed working with pictures and wanted to get back into that.

* * *

I’d had a call from Darrell, one of the gallery owners I’d shown my stuff to back in August. He wanted to see what I was working on now. I was able to put him off until after the holidays, thank goodness, and I gave him a hint of what I’d been working on and he seemed intrigued. It was odd: he’d been rather dismissive when I’d met him last summer. Even though I had been exhibited at Winton’s, a gallery known for finding promising young artists, and trust me, I was surprised they’d wanted to include my stuff in their Black/White show, Darrell had told me that my photos were amateurish. I figured that was why so few had sold: people want to buy from a professional, not an amateur. I didn’t know what had changed, but I was glad for a second chance.

I was on my way to work before I knew it. I’m pretty sure I had a bit of a bounce to my step. I was thinking of all I wanted to get done before heading out tonight to hear Nick play. I’d been able to get everything I needed for Christmas, all the food and drink was waiting in the fridge and pantry, ready for me to whip up a little magic.

The day flew by, if by flew by you meant it ground to a halt and stayed 11:01 a.m. for about four hours. Because I’d had that group of mothers come in I’d been nice and letting all the other associates take the customers who came in unless it was busy. I had three customers in those four hours and they were more of the kind who were ‘just looking’ than the kind who were going to purchase. I was having a hard time staying focused and awake as I ‘helped’ a woman who couldn’t (or wouldn’t) be satisfied with anything.

Then she walked in.

Florentina Panagopoulos.

Gesundheit.

You guessed it, she was the final member of the group of women who had been coming to see me. After we talked I was sure she was their unofficial leader, or maybe it was even official. Let me tell you, she was a force to be reckoned with.

Serena approached her and was immediately dismissed with a flick of her perfectly manicured hand. When Samantha approached her, she turned her back and surveyed the store, looking for something or someone. Dot, our manager, approached and a simple ‘no’ was all we heard. When she spotted me, I knew my day would finish with her.

“There you are, come here.”

I can’t explain it, other than I knew I needed to do as she asked, so I approached. She linked her arm to mine like we were best friends and took me on a leisurely stroll around the store, quieting the customer I’d been helping with one look when she started to protest.

“So, Miss Belanger, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing well, ma’am. Thank you for asking.” That was when I realized she was part of that group.

“Oh, that won’t do. Please, call me Tina. And may I call you Violet?”

“Um, of course.” I was more than a little uneasy around her. Tina was obviously a woman used to getting her way and she commanded attention, but not in a way that was anything close to hey look at me. It was more that you were just drawn to her.

“So, what are your plans?”

“My plans, my plans for what?”

She stopped walking and turned to me. I felt like I was about to be scolded, but I couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“I’m sure this past year has been hard, but I was watching you through the window for a few minutes before I came in. You seem to be at peace, and that’s different than last week. Marge said you were having trouble. She was really concerned for you.”

I didn’t know what to do with that information, and I think Tina could tell.

“She said you had to move last year?”

“Yeah, I lost my job when I took too much time off work.” Why was I talking about this? Why had I talked to Marge about this? For some reason I trusted these women. “My landlord booted me when I couldn’t pay rent. I landed on a friend’s couch, found this job. It took a few months but I was barely back on my feet when she left town. I’m in a decent enough place now. I can afford the rent on my own. I don’t mind the commute. And I will say that with everything that you and your friends have bought, that’ll give me a leg up. You have no idea just how much I appreciate everything.”

“We knew you needed it. Patsy was the first to come across you and was really moved when you tried to get her to spend more time with her daughter. We did some research on you and found out your story and we decided to help you out.”

I took a step back. This was-

“You know, Tina, that’s actually a little creepy.”

Her smile was reassuring, and I wanted to believe she meant well.

“We like to know who we’re helping. It’s not just money, I mean, we have contacts, we can help you in any number of ways.”

“Why?”

“Why do we want to help?”

“No. I mean yes, but why me?”

“We like to help young women, give them a hand up. We saw what you wrote on Twitter after you quit modeling and we knew you have a good heart.”

“I haven’t been on Twitter in years.”

“Yeah, we saw that. Looks like you generally stay away from social media.”

“I was getting harassed and I just didn’t want to have to deal with it anymore.”

“Makes sense. Why didn’t you just delete your account?”

“In case I ever decided to go back.” When I’d quit I knew I wanted to get into photography, and I figured that if I did, it might be good for promotion.

It looked like she wanted to say more. I kinda didn’t want the conversation to go any further, but I was curious.

“I saw the photographs you exhibited.”

Sure, she’d had my attention all along. This was different.

“You did?”

“Yep, I even bought a couple.”

“Seriously? Which ones?”

I’m sure the look on my face conveyed my shock. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather.

“There was one of a beach, and of trees in winter.”

“Then you were at Winton’s.”

Figures. It was the one I hadn’t been able to attend the opening. I’d had food poisoning and could barely stand for more than a few seconds at a time without needing to hustle to my bathroom.

“I wasn’t able to be there. I was ill.”

“That’s what they said. I think if you’d been there you would have sold more. Most people want to meet the artist, get a sense of who they are before they buy something.”

“That’s not what Darrell said.”

“Darrell can be an ass.”

“You know him?”

“Only well enough to know that he can be an ass. Enough about him. When’s your next show?”

How do you explain that you don’t think you’ll ever have another? It’s embarrassing, having done a couple and not doing another. Sure, Darrell had called, but I doubt he was being genuine.

“I don’t have anything lined up right now.”

Tina took me by the arm and we started walking again. I think she knew it made it easier on me, not having to look at her as we talked.

“You should have several galleries vying for your work. It’s good. Do you have more of the winter trees?”

“More than I can count.”

“I’d love to see them sometime.”

I couldn’t help it. I was overcome. Someone wanted to see my pictures! But this didn’t make any sense. My pictures weren’t all that good. Cautious. I needed to be cautious. I hadn’t noticed a wedding ring, and she was clingy. I hadn’t had to deal with this in a while. I wasn’t uncomfortable, being hit on by a woman, but I was always afraid I’d come across as rude when I turned them down.

“Why?”

“Oh listen to you! Sweetie, rest assured, I’m not hitting on you. Not that you’re not very pretty, because you are, but I’m just not interested.”

“Then, why do you want-”

“To see your pictures? Because if I like them then I’ll want to buy them.”

* * *

By the time I got home and got done with my shower, and finished getting ready, I barely had time for a quick bite before I had to dash out the door. They were only playing until 10 and I wanted to catch as much of them, well, let’s face it, as much of Nick, as I could. My day had taken quite the turn by the time Tina had left and it had me thinking all sorts of things, of changing things in my life. I’d had an idea on the way home that turned into a change of plans for the evening and I set things up before I left. I knew if I left it to when I got home, I probably wouldn’t go through with it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I think it was that I wanted it too much.

If I’d taken the subway I’m pretty sure I would’ve missed him so I splurged for a taxi. The club was packed when I got there so I gave my name to the guy at the door and was let in. Nick had texted me that it was busier than expected and that he’d saved me a spot near the stage. There were a couple of tables for all of the girlfriends or wives or friends and he’d been nice enough to make sure I had a place to sit. Introductions were next to impossible that close to the stage so I simply gestured to Nick and saw only smiles. I set my beer down, took off my coat, and sat just in time for them to finish their set. I glanced up, clapping, and was greeted with one of Nick’s dazzling smiles.

It felt like all eyes in the place were on us when he jumped down off the stage, grabbed my hand, and took off. I didn’t know where we were going but that didn’t matter. After a couple of twists and turns we were in a room, the door closed, alone.

“I’d love to hug you, but I’m all sweaty and don’t want to ruin your dress. You’re gorgeous, Violet.”

I put my arms around him and pulled him close.

“That’s what dry cleaning is for.”

He laughed as we kissed. And then he wasn’t laughing. It felt like it had been forever since we last saw each other, and not just since the morning when I’d left for work.

The din of the club rose when the door opened and a raspy voice scratched at my ears.

“You gonna introduce us to your latest squeeze, Nick?”

I couldn’t help but go stiff at hearing that. I tried to pull away but Nick wouldn’t let me. He did what he could to reassure me.

“He’s kidding.” He saw his reassurance didn’t work immediately. “Come on, tell her you’re kidding.”

“I’m just messing with him. Dude gets all the attention but never does anything about it. I was wondering if he even liked women. Ain’t never seen him with one.”

I turned and saw an older gentleman, and not just by a few years.

I stuck my hand out and introduced myself.

“Hi. Violet Belanger, and you are?”

He stopped our handshake midway through.

“You related to Cate Belanger?”

I knew. I knew when I’d told Nick that there was a possibility that the people he played with might know Mom, but knowing it and being confronted with it were two different things. I could only nod. Luckily, Nick saved me having to form words.

“She was her mother.”

“Of course, the anniversary.” His whole demeanor changed before my eyes. His face softened and he got a wistful look. His eyes even twinkled a bit, just before a couple of tears escaped. With his reaction, I wondered how well he’d known her or even if they’d ever played. “She was a wonderful pianist. She’s been missed.” He got quiet. He was holding back. “She was so beautiful.”

“She was, inside and out.”

The lump in my throat wouldn’t allow any more words out. I felt Nick wipe my tears away. I hadn’t even noticed them. There weren’t many, just a couple.

“I’ve missed hearing her play.”

It felt like he’d just confessed something, but what, I don’t know.

“Especially at Christmas.”

His grip on my hand tightened as Nick grabbed the other. He almost spoke up, and then the door opened and more of the group came in and I was introduced to them all. Bud and Frankie were the only names I could remember by the time we left, there were so many of them. Some of them knew of my mother, some didn’t. Luckily, I didn’t have any more tears to shed. I wanted it to be a happy occasion. It was Christmas, after all.

I finally learned the older gentleman’s name when Duke called him Dougie. He’d retreated to the corner and was quiet. I saw him eye me several times before I left the room so they could get ready for their last set. Nick wanted me to stay, but I felt like an intruder.

When I got back to the table I introduced myself and was asked how I’d met Nick and how serious we were and how long we’d been going out. I kept things vague. It felt like they were grilling me, trying to find out my secret. Of course I didn’t have one, but that didn’t stop them.

It finally dawned on me what was going on when I realized that it was the completely adorably cute ginger who was actually named Ginger who was behind most of the questions. She was the all-American girl-next-door type right down to her bright blue eyes that were perfectly underlined by a smattering of adorable freckles across her perfect nose, and had been introduced as “Duke’s cousin”. She wanted Nick for herself. I couldn’t blame her: he was a pretty terrific guy.

I was saved from having to dodge any more questions when they came back out, and everything I’d thought about Ginger was confirmed when I saw the look on her face as I felt Nick’s hand on the back of my head.

While I’ve never minded PDA, I’ve always kept it socially acceptable, and I tried, I really did try to keep it on the G side of PG when Nick kissed me before taking the stage. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. Maybe he was telling the guys in the band that we were really together. Maybe he was telling all the men in the club I was his. Maybe he was telling me, in no uncertain terms, that I was his. Whatever his motivation, all I’ll say was he was thorough, exceedingly thorough.

He addressed the table before he left.

“Don’t any of you dare say anything to scare Vi off. I really like her.”

That floating feeling I’d had before, the one caused by all those hummingbirds in my tummy? It was back.

Truth be told, when they started playing I couldn’t hear anyone but Nick, at least for the first few bars. I didn’t recognize the song until Bud started singing and I realized they’d jazzed up a country song, Hangin’ Round the Mistletoe. I couldn’t help but think back to our first kiss. It felt like it was yesterday. It felt like it was a lifetime ago.

They moved from song to song, playing some standards and some that they’d changed up quite a bit. By the time they were done for the night I was fully in the Christmas spirit. It had waned with all the work I’d been doing. I hadn’t really had an opportunity to enjoy my decorations and feel Christmasy. By the time they were done, though, I wanted some roasted chestnuts and hot apple cider, or maybe some mulled wine. I wanted a foot of snow outside (which I wouldn’t get since it was entirely too warm) and snowmen and snow angels and kids with mittens running around.

When Nick came out with his case and we all exchanged our wishes for everyone to have a Merry Christmas, Duke reminded him of their next gig, which wasn’t until the 28th.

“Wait, you’re not coming over to Duke’s for Christmas dinner?” You had to give Ginger credit, she was trying.

I looked up at Nick, interrupting him before he could answer.

“I didn’t know you had plans when I invited you over. You don’t ha-”

“Duke’s house is always open for anyone who doesn’t have someplace else to be, and I, most definitely, have someplace else to be.”

I’m not proud of my reaction, but I was miffed when Ginger had the nerve to step between us.

“But I won’t be able to give you your gift.”

I was pretty sure Duke knew the score and that was why he stepped in, grabbing her arm and pulling her to his side. “Um, well, that was nice of you, but maybe you should return it. Guys shouldn’t be getting Christmas gifts from girls who aren’t their girlfriends.”

I didn’t have the nerve to look at Nick. Someone else had called me his girlfriend, and he wasn’t correcting them. A couple dozen more hummingbirds took flight.

“But-”

Duke bend down and whispered into her ear. Ginger headed back to the dressing room, looking over her shoulder at Nick as she did.

“You kids go. I’ll set her straight. Violet, it was very nice to meet you. I’m assuming I’ll see you New Year’s Eve?”

“Well, we haven’t-”

Nick cut me off.

“Yes, you will.”

I was pretty sure I was going to float the rest of the night.

“Keep Nick out of trouble for me, would ya?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“See ya New Year’s Eve, doll.”

“Good night, Duke. Please have a Merry Christmas.”

* * *

I was able to give the address of our building to the taxi driver before Nick got in, so he didn’t know that was where we were going. I kept him suitably distracted as the taxi made its way there. I was out first and at the entrance by the time Nick paid the driver and got out. I shushed him as I dragged him up our stairs, not answering him as to why we were there and not at a church. I unlocked my door.

“Just wait here, I’ll be right back.”

“What-”

I gave him a quick kiss, cutting off his question.

“I’ll be right back.”

I ducked into my place and headed to my bedroom. I needed to light all the candles before I called him in. My hands were shaking as I lit each one. Why had I put so many out? I took several deep breaths, trying to steady myself, before I called out to him.

“Nick, could you come in here? I need some help with something.”

I heard the front door open and snick shut and this was it. It was all or nothing. He had a puzzled look on his face when he stepped through the doorway to my candlelit bedroom.

I turned around as I pulled my hair over my shoulder, revealing the back of my dress, before glancing at him over my shoulder. I was still shaking, but I was determined.

“Help me with my zipper?”

“I knew it! Of course you want to change out of it. I did get you all sweaty, didn’t I?”

He didn’t get it. If it was possible, I got even more nervous as he unzipped me.

“Let me go so you can change.”

I spun, I couldn’t let him leave.

“No!”

He turned back around as I let my dress dropped to the floor, revealing my nicest lingerie. The deep burgundy had matched my dress perfectly and it made me look like I actually had curves. I always felt sexiest when I wore the set. His eyes dropped to my feet and he took his sweet time, studying me. I think I aged a decade, it took his eyes so long to find my face. I saw something dark and beautiful in his eyes.

“Wh-”

“I don’t want to go to Midnight Mass.”

I reached back to unhook my bra.

“NO!”

I’m pretty sure I jumped. The few seconds it took me to recover from his shout gave him time enough to be in front of me, hand on the back of my head, fisting my hair and tilting my head so I had no choice but to look into his eyes, eyes that were blown so wide I couldn’t see any color, not in the low light of the room.

“What I meant was, I want to finish undressing you. Would that be okay?”

Finally!


	16. Chapter 16

I’d been worried he’d say he wasn’t interested. Thank God that wasn’t the case.

Then why was I so nervous?

I didn’t have a reason to be nervous anymore, except that I did, and I was. He hadn’t seen me naked. Maybe he wouldn’t find me sexy. Maybe he’d get angry since I couldn’t-

“Vi?”

“Hm?”

“What’s wrong? Have you changed your mind?”

Perfect time to get shy. I tried to turn away, but he wouldn’t let me.

“Violet, baby, is everything okay?”

I figured telling him part of the truth was okay.

“Yeah, I just…”

He gave me plenty of time to finish my thought, but I think I was trying even his patience.

“You just… what?”

“I think I just got so used to you saying you didn’t want me that I really wasn't sure this would happen.”

I was surprised when he took a step back. I was happy when he chose to sit on the bed rather than leave. I knew it was time for a conversation when he looked up at me with a furrowed brow. What was that I was seeing in his eyes?

“I don’t _ever_ recall saying I don’t want you.”

“Every time we kissed for, like, more than 10 seconds you said you didn’t want us to go further.”

I couldn’t understand why he looked relieved.

“I didn’t want you to think that was all I wanted from you, that that was the only reason I was coming over and spending time with you.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’ve actually wanted you for a while now, but I wanted to get to know you better.”

I was finally able to get my feet to move so I walked over to him and wedged myself between his legs. He looked up at me, his blue eyes peering into mine. His smile echoed my own as I felt his hands on the backs of my knees, working their way up my thighs.

“How long?”

I think he was distracted. His hands had just reached my butt.

“Hm?”

“How long have you wanted me?”

“Several months. Since August 12th to be exact.”

“You can’t possibly know the day!”

“What do you wanna bet?”

He had to have something up his sleeve: his eyes were way too twinkly and I swear, he'd been taking lessons from the Cheshire Cat.

“I don’t think I’d be safe betting against you.”

He hugged me close, nestling his cheek against my tummy. His broad hands were warm on my back.

“I will never take advantage of you.”

“You silly, I know that. I just meant that you sounded so sure of yourself. I’m like, 95% sure I’d lose.”

I heard his hum of approval when I sank my fingers into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

“It was the first time I saw you, that’s how I know.”

The first time?

“Why didn’t you say anything to me? You could have introduced yourself, you know.”

“You weren’t having a good night. It was just getting dark out, so maybe it was 8:15, 8:30. You just got home from, well, I don’t know where, but you were dressed up. You were in a pale pink sundress, and you were carrying your sandals, and you were doing what you could to hold back your tears. I held the door to our building for you and then followed you upstairs. I made sure you got into your apartment okay. Your door closed and I heard you burst into tears. All I wanted to do was to hold you, protect you.”

I’d done what I could to forget that night, the blind date from hell. I know, we’ve all had them, and I don’t mean to say that mine was worse than any that you’ve had, but it was.

Then again, maybe someone you thought was a friend purposefully set you up with a misogynistic asshole, and maybe they told you that it served you right, because you “always walked around thinking you were better than everyone else”, or some such nonsense. I mean, maybe you’ve had that happen.

I sure hope not.

His arms tightened around my waist and he stood, lifting me slightly before turning and tossing me onto my bed. Laughter bubbled up and out of me and all was right with the world once again when his 1000 watt smile was back. He stretched out over me.

“I want you to know, I’ve been thinking about this, tonight, what our first time might be like.” He thumbed my chin up and lavished kisses on my neck. “Whatever it’s like, it’s about us. Just us.” By the time he was on top of me he was kissing me, his arms digging their way under me, holding onto me. We made out for a little while. I tried to roll us, but he wasn’t having it. “Nope.” He kissed down my neck, across my collarbone, and grabbed the strap to my bra with his teeth. I hadn’t realized it, but he’d unhooked my bra and when he sat up, he quickly pulled it off of me.

I couldn’t breathe. He had me pinned down with his gaze. When his eyes finally traveled down my torso, I was able to look away. I was overwhelmed. And then I felt him. His fingers traced down my arms. He picked up my hands and kissed my palms just before bending over me.

“You are so beautiful, Violet.”

His fingers traveled ahead of his lips, touching, soothing, stroking their way from my forehead to my chin, along my neck and shoulders, before he wrapped his hands around my ribcage and his thumbs found my rosy flesh, puckering in anticipation of the attention he was about to lavish on them.

I cried out and my back arched when I felt his warm tongue play circles on me, when he bit my flesh and sucked me into his mouth. I’d never felt anything like it. Tingles traveled up and down my body, just below the surface of my skin. I felt his hum of approval when my fingers wove into his hair, grasping whatever I could as I held on for dear life.

His thumb took over as he moved to my other breast, kissing his way across. I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me. He paused, his brow furrowed as our eyes met.

“Tickles.”

His eyes sparkled as he resumed his trek.

It felt so good. My body was alive like it had never been before.

And then his beard tickled my tummy and I was laughing. He blew a zurbert and we both laughed. He stopped, though, as he sat up, his fingers tugging on my panties. It turned serious.

“Lift your legs up. Help me get these off.”

I wasn’t scared so much as apprehensive.

“Please?”

This was it. I was going to feel so close to him. That’s what put the smile on my face.

“There’s my beautiful girl.”

The last barrier I had was gone, but he was still fully clothed. I tried to move my legs so I could sit up.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Your clothes. I was gonna help-”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

What did he mean by that?

He scooted back and bent over my hip, biting at the bone that protruded, before kissing down to my thigh. My muscles twitched and trembled and rippled in response to his soft beard and lips, to his warm breath and tongue, and to his teeth. He put his hand under my knee and moved my leg up and to the side.

I tried to get away.

“Where are you going?”

“What are you doing?”

He moved, quickly, and he was on top of me and kissing me.

“Violet, have you never had someone touch you that way?”

“Um, no. Why would they?”

“Do you like it when I hold your hand?”

“Yeah, I do.”

I will drown in that man’s smiles one day.

“Did you like it earlier when I touched your face?”

“It gave me tingles.”

“How about what I was just doing? Did you like it when I kissed your tummy?”

What was he up to?

“It tickled, and it made me, I don't know, fluttery.”

“You’ve never had someone touch you like that before, kiss your hip and thigh?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I mean, there was the truth, but I was starting to feel like a child, like someone who had been playing at being an adult. The problem was that I’d had boyfriends, and none of them had ever touched me like Nick had so I’d thought that things that I wanted weren’t normal, weren’t what women should want.

I’d talked to Mom about sex, but not from the “there are things that you are going to want so you should speak up and ask for them” kind of way. Instead, it was from the “you need to make sure you’re protected (condom and birth control) and you need to make sure he’s clean and don’t do anything you don’t want to do and don’t be pressured into it” kind of way.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“But why would they want to, Nick?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Why do you want to?”

“It’s simple, really. I want to experience all of you. I’d like to be your first.”

That didn’t make sense.

“My first what?”

“The first person to make love to you.”

“But I told you-”

“I’m not talking about sex, I’m talking about making love.”

I was able to get him to stay where he was, and not try to move back to where he’d been, when I grabbed onto the back of his neck.

“I don’t understand. What’s the difference?”

His kisses were so sweet, and he slowed everything down.

“The fact that you ask, it tells me I’m right, I will be your first. Making love is more than just sex, more than just that one act. I like all of it, the whole thing. I like watching you get goosebumps and your muscles twitching just because I breathe on you.” Nick gave me the sweetest smile and my heart melted. “And I can tell you were sweating in the club because you’re a little salty and I love that.” Both of us were smiling bigger and bigger the longer he went on. “I like your laugh and I love making you laugh. I like how soft your skin is. You feel like velvet. I love discovering this stuff about you, seriously, it’s my favorite part.”

He was the first man who made me think he wanted me, and not just the act or because I was convenient. This was new to me, and a bit heady.

“Violet, I’m not with you because I only see you as some sort of toy to get me off. I like you.”

I was caught off-guard. I thought that maybe he wanted me to respond but before I could, his lips found mine. He knew I liked him, I just don’t think he knew how much.

“I want you to enjoy being with me and what we do and I want to give you so much pleasure that your body sings and we have all the time in the world. But you know what? Tonight isn’t about that, it’s not the goal. Tonight is about feeling closer to each other and I need you to know that I want to be close to you.”

It was almost overwhelming, what he was saying.

“I want to get to know you, and I don’t mean just how you take your coffee or that little hum you have when you sigh right before you drift off to sleep. I want to know you, the real you, the you who takes the beautiful pictures that you do and I want to learn anything and everything I possibly can.”

I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve this, to deserve him, and a small shadow of doubt crossed my mind and I hated it.

“Like what?”

“Like, do you want to travel and do you want to always live in the city and do you want a pet and if so what kind and so many other things, but we have time for that.”

He wouldn’t let me speak, putting his finger over my lips and stilling me.

“I don’t think you know just how amazing and resilient you are and you persevere. Life has given you some good things, but it’s also taken some really important stuff away. Baby, you’re funny and talented and patient and I wanted to talk to you for so long and it felt like it took me forever to build up the courage to say anything to you and I’m so glad I did.”

Tina had been right. She’d told me that he’d reveal himself to me, that I’d know soon enough if Nick was a good man, one worth the time and trouble, one worth keeping. She told me she was pretty sure he was a good one, what with all that I’d told her, and she’d been right.

“I want you, Violet. All of you, every single part of you. Please let me make love to you.”

Does anyone ever think they’ll actually get this, someone like Nick, kind and patient and talented, telling you the stuff you’ve always wanted to hear? I sure never did.

I hoped he wasn’t going to be disappointed.


	17. Chapter 17

Nick was so patient with me. I hadn’t answered him because I couldn’t answer him. This was such unfamiliar territory for me.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want what he was asking for. God, I think I wanted it too much, but I also wasn’t sure that I could. I’d never been able to- well, every other man I’ve been with ended up- geez, ‘every other man’, makes it sound like I’ve been with lots of men. Three. Three others, that’s all that there’s been. I’ve dated more than that, but it’s only been three. I have to say, though, that they were never like Nick. They’d never been supportive and kind and willing to let me deal with my stuff and not only that, he’d been the only one to ever want to help me. Those others? The moment anything was wrong, they disappeared.

I wanted to do for him. Nick had been so wonderful, so kind and patient. He’d sat with me while I cried for my mother. He waited out my new-found fear of losing him. He hadn’t tried to rush me. He’d simply supported me. What had I done to deserve him?

“One condition.”

He was amused.

“You want to put a condition on making love?”

“Well, I feel like it’s a bit unequal right now.”

“I don’t understand.”

I was able to get his shirt untucked and tried to unbuckle his belt, but he was too fast for me. I didn’t like that he could hold both my wrists in one hand, pinned to the bed over my head.

“Nick, I don’t want to be the only one who’s naked.”

“Trust me, you won’t be. For now, I’d like to have it be just like this. Okay?”

Or maybe I did.

None of the three who came before Nick had ever made anything that we did to be about us, let alone about me. Everything had always been about them. So for a split second, I mean like the tiniest sliver of a second, I assumed he was going to be the same. I know, I know! He’d said what every woman wants to hear and that alone was more than I’d had before. What was it that she’d said, that Tina had said? Trust, but verify?

Nick was absolutely verifying what he’d said just a little bit ago. He wasn’t grabbing at me or shoving me around, or making me get on my knees in front of him. He’d let go of my wrists and his fingers were gentle and slow, moving from my forehead to my chin, tilting my head back. He didn’t grab my neck, but I felt his hand as it stroked down to the hollow at the base of my throat.

“It’s not about me right now, okay, Vi?”

Was he psychic?

“’Kay.”

Nick’s hands were magical. This time, oh, God, this time he didn’t rush. I mean, he didn’t rush last time, nope, he sure hadn’t. This time, well, the only way I can describe it, other than what he did to me, was that he made me feel cared for. This was all new, terribly unfamiliar territory for me. I wanted it, I was desperate for it to become familiar.

He’d use the backs of his fingers if he wanted to soothe or feel or just touch me. He used the calloused pads of his fingers if he wanted to hear me. His nails caused shivers and gooseflesh. I was both overwhelmed with what he was doing to me, and not getting nearly enough.

It doesn’t come close to making sense to me, how two things so opposite were happening at the same time.

My body came alive with each stroke, whether it was soft or strong, hurried or slow, whether lingering in one spot or on the move. I found that it wasn’t until I closed my eyes that I was able to relax, able to let myself just be in the moment.

His encouragement of me to enjoy what he was doing was wordless. I don’t think he wanted to distract me. I’d feel his lips where he’d kiss me periodically: the bridge of my nose, my cheek, the hollow of my throat.

My collar bone, my breast, my nipple.

His hands were gentle, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know he was there. His fingers were dragging along parts of my body and he’d venture from one to the next. They moved from my shoulder to my belly to the palm of my hand. They skipped from my hip to my ribs to my neck. I was never sure where he’d end up.

What he was doing felt so good, but I was getting distracted, wanting him to just hurry it up and get on with it. I think he could tell.

“I want you to close your eyes and relax.”

“But-”

“No. I want you to stop your mind. Just let me. I mean, if I do something you don’t like let me know, but other than that, this time is mine. I’m going to do what I want. I’ve wanted you for so long, feels like forever.”

I did as he asked. How could I not? He was saying things I’d always wanted to hear but was sure I’d never hear. But still, there was something on my mind, something I’d been holding back. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t. I couldn’t, really.

He kept touching me. I would have sworn he was trying to distract me, get me out of my head. That was, until I realized what he was doing was changing. Where he touched me, how he touched me: it was becoming less and less random. Maybe he’d been trying to get me used to him, used to his hands.

I can’t imagine ever wanting to be used to his hands. I always wanted him, with just one touch, to make my body come alive.

He moved and began kissing my belly. His soft beard tickled and I tried not to laugh, but it was so hard. Then he nuzzled against me and I couldn’t help it. I had to scratch where he’d been rubbing and I couldn’t stop the giggles from spilling out of me.

“Stop!!! That tickles!”

Nick was completely adorable, stopping because I asked.

“God, I love to hear you laugh.”

He kissed me again, lower. It wasn’t so much a tickle; it was more of a flutter that I felt, low in my belly. I was surprised, maybe even a little shocked.

And then he moved lower. Oh. _Oh_. I’d heard about this. I thought it was one of those urban legends.

I guess I was wrong.

He moved my legs, parting them for him. He kissed my thighs and licked his way up to-

That scream came from me, didn’t it?

I slapped my hand over my mouth as I felt him lick me and my world came to a sudden and abrupt halt.

Apparently, he’d been anticipating my reaction because I couldn’t sit up. He was holding me down. I panicked for about two seconds before I felt him lick me again and _holy mother of all that is good and great in this world!_ He found _that part_ of me that _I_ knew existed (and I had a familiarity with it) but every man I’d ever been with only ever gave it a passing glance on the way to _his_ promised land. They always claimed that they were doing everything right, that every other woman they’d ever been with had so many orgasms that it was embarrassing and that there must be something wrong with _me_ , that I was the freak, especially since I was asking for something different than every other woman. They’d made me feel so… so inadequate, so not a woman, like I had no purpose in a relationship other than to serve him. I’d actually started to question what my value was, and if I should even look to be in a relationship.

And then mom and the past year and I had been so lost, so alone…

And then Nick happened.

Boy oh boy, did Nick happen.

He’d been paying attention to me, taking care of me, wanting me to feel good, making me feel completely and utterly alive, making me feel safe with him, that I could trust him, making me feel things for him, for this gorgeous man, this talented man, for this good and kind and decent man who happened to be my neighbor. He was making me believe in myself again, and he was reawakening my belief in the goodness of others.

And then, tonight, he’d turned the tables on me. I’d wanted this night to be about him, about showing him how much I appreciated him, how I was growing more and more fond of him, how much I cared for him, but he was making it about me.

Who does that?

No one had ever made something about me. Well, no one but Mom, and most certainly no one since Mom died.

These thoughts went through my head in an instant, and I was overwhelmed. It all slammed into my consciousness like, you know, when you see the stupid person in the movie try to cross the street and they turn around to say something to the person who waited on the sidewalk only to be mowed down by the city bus or truck traveling at what had to be Mach 2.1 in a 35 MPH zone, because that is the only way that monstrosity would sneak up on them.

So, this thought, about this incredible man hit me and it was too much, and I think he knew something was up. Somehow he held me down and grabbed and held my hand as his tongue, and oh my GOD his tongue was magic, but he was doing things to me that other, well they certainly never acted like men but they were old enough to be men, but Nick sure as hell was a man and he was making me squirm because holy hell it felt so fucking good to have someone take care of me and do for me and fucking seriously, everything was bubbling up so damn fast, too damn fast and I didn’t want to miss it-

But how the hell could I miss it. He was so gentle and he was sucking and licking and I swear he could read my mind, he knew exactly when to switch tactics, exactly when to move from one spot to another, when to change from suction to pressure to the lightest of touches, or to change from tongue to lips to teeth-seriously, who even knew teeth could be safe or even feel good-and I’d lost all capability of thought or speech, and my body had a mind of its own, and all I wanted was-

Oh fuck, it was happening. I was going to- Nick was going to be the first man to-

“Right there right there right there- ohgodpleasedon’tstop!”

I lost my ability to word. That doesn’t even make sense. There was more, more I wanted to say but all words exited my head. My hands were next. He intercepted my hands as they gravitated towards his head. He held them as he slowed his movements. He didn’t stop and he kept that same movement, his tongue circling against me in that one spot, the one that I knew would do the trick. He wasn’t doing enough, but like, just barely not enough and he stayed, just like that, for I don’t even know how long. I mean, I’m convinced that time stopped. All I was, all I knew was that I was on the verge of one hellacious fucking orgasm and he wouldn’t push me over. I swear, the only part of me that existed was between his lips, under his tongue _his magical fucking_ tongue and I felt myself lose control. I tried to do something, arching, thrusting in his direction, but it didn’t work. He wouldn’t let it work, moving with me.

My whole body was a quivering, shaking, teetering-on-the-edge-of-the-abyss mess and he was keeping me right there. And then it happened: one single word broke through.

“Please.”

He sped up and just the teensiest extra bit of pressure was all it took and I was soaring and exploding and at one with the universe…

Have you ever seen The 5th Element, and the end where, well, *spoiler alert*, the light shoots out of Leeloo and fends off the evil? That’s what it was, or, what it felt like.

Oh.

My.

God.

Was that what it felt like, physically, to be loved? I couldn’t even begin to imagine it had a chance of feeling better than this.

And then it hit me: those men had been wrong, they’d misled me, lied to me, or maybe it was that they were lying to themselves. But the years of self-doubt, of feeling like I was less than a human being worthy of love and affection, they fucking bitch-slapped me and it was tears streaming down my face that greeted Nick.

Boy did he get the raw end of the deal when he threw in with me.

“Vi, baby, what did I do?”

After all that he thought he’d done something wrong. Him? I turned away and curled up into a ball. I couldn’t control the sobs coming from me.

“Oh, God, did I hurt you?”

I turned back over and clung to him. I wasn’t able to speak. How was I going to fix this?


	18. Chapter 18

“Violet? Won’t you tell me what I did?”

I tried to tell him, but he couldn’t decipher what I was saying. Hell, I couldn’t decipher what I was saying and I knew what I was saying. The sobbing was getting in the way.

“Honey, I can’t understand you. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

That made it worse. How was I going to stop this before it went too far? Hell, it had already gone too far.

I shook my head and when he tried to speak again, I slapped my hand over his mouth. I needed him to stop so I could get myself under control, and it worked. It wasn’t more than just a few minutes when all that remained was tears streaming down my face. At least the sobbing had stopped.

“I’m not broken.” It felt so good to say those words out loud. Well, okay, technically I whispered them.

“Why would you think you were broken?”

I felt so naïve, so stupid. It was confession time.

“It’s what they told me.”

“Who told you that?”

I tried to turn over, hide my humiliation from him. I didn’t want him to know how stupid I was, but he wouldn’t let me. He held my face in his hands and was only inches away.

“Who told you that you were broken, Vi?”

If I was going to be absolutely honest… “No one.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He didn’t use that word, but I know it was what he meant.”

“What who meant?”

“My ex.”

“Why the hell would your ex call you broken?”

“I just told you, he didn’t use that word. I-” this was hard. I hadn’t liked thinking this about myself and it turns out I’d listened to the wrong man. I hated this. “I preferred to think of it as broken instead of that I couldn’t, that I was… that I was…” The word wouldn’t form. It was there, I knew what it was I was trying to say, but I didn’t want to say it.

“Was… what?”

“Inadequate.”

“Why the hell would he call you inadequate?”

“He didn’t.”

“Baby, I’m not understanding. What _did_ he say?”

Nick was so patient. He was being as patient as he could be, and I knew I was trying that patience. If I didn’t l- if he didn’t mean so much to me, I would have stopped.

“Well, I couldn’t, I wasn’t able to, and he said he’d never had problems before so I was the problem, not him, and-”

“What couldn’t you-”

For the second time in just about as many minutes, I slapped my hand over his mouth. I couldn’t have him speculating as to what my problem was. When his eyes softened and there was a sadness, I wasn’t sure what he’d thought he figured out, but it was possible-

He took my hand from his mouth and kissed me.

He knew. His kiss told me he knew. I couldn’t panic. I wouldn’t allow myself to panic. _There was no reason to panic._ He knew and his first instinct was to kiss me, not to recoil or call me a freak. I felt safer than I ever had in my life.

“He never tried-”

“No, he didn’t.” I cut him off, which, trust me, I know was incredibly rude, but I didn’t want to hear it from him, the confirmation as to how bad it had been. “He said he shouldn’t need to, that he didn’t need to with anyone else. He said it was me.”

The tears in my eyes were fresh, even if the memory was almost a decade old.

“That’s why you were crying, wasn’t it?”

While I nodded in confirmation, I needed to explain myself. “I was crying because I realized that I’ve been lied to and I’m not broken.”

“He really never-”

“No. I asked and he told me I was being ridiculous and I believed him so I never asked for it a second time, not from anyone. I was young and naïve and I didn’t know any better.”

“How old were you?”

Ugh.

“Sixteen.”

“Sixteen? And how old was he?”

I hesitated. I’m sure the heat I felt on my face meant I was turning a particular shade of lobster. Was he going to judge me?

“25.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“No, you’re not, Nick. It was a long time ago.”

“Wait, that means I was your first, doesn’t it?”

Leave it to a guy…

“No, you weren’t my first.”

“No, what I mean is I’m the first one to do right by you, to put you first. To make you come.”

I hesitated. “Sure, yeah, I guess.”

It was a quick exhale that greeted Nick when he started caressing my face.

“Did you like it?”

I couldn’t figure out if he was really that insecure.

“Did I like it? Are you kidding me?”

He was desperate to control the grin trying to emerge.

“You busted out crying after.”

“That wasn’t because of you. I mean it was, but in a good way.”

He was quiet for a few moments.

“I’m thinking I want to do it again.”

“You do?”

“I’m thinking you need it again. You need lots and lots of orgasms. We need to make up for lost time.”

I loved the way he thought.

“That’s not your responsibility.”

“I’m making it my responsibility.”

Before he could make a move, I was shoving at him, trying to get up and off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I want to go blow my nose and wash my face.”

“Why? You’re beautiful right now, just as you are.”

I pushed until he relented and let me up.

“I want to be able to breathe.”

I went through three Kleenex’s before I dared check my reflection.

“Oh, seriously, I need to take a shower.”

“No, you cannot take a shower.”

Nick was leaning on the doorjamb, watching me.

“Why not?”

“You take a shower, you’re going to want to wash your hair and then you’ll want to dry it before you do anything else and that’ll take forever and then you’ll be tired and want to go to sleep.”

Into the bathroom he came, sauntering up behind me, and rubbing up against me. I felt him, as in I felt _him_ , and I changed my mind about that shower.

“Promise me, no shower.”

“I promise.”

He started at my shoulder, nipping and biting and licking and kissing his way to my ear.

“Good girl.”

Fingertips scraped up my back to my scalp, gathering my hair in his hand along the way. The gentlest of tugs had my head stretched to the side as he found my shoulder again. My face wash clattered in the sink, completely forgotten as I did everything I could to stay upright. Nick took a step forward and I was pinned between him and the vanity. He reached his hand around and massaged my breast, causing me to gasp. He scraped his teeth along my shoulder and I could feel his smile when I whimpered.

He let go of my hair and pushed on my chin, turning my head towards him. His mouth sealed over mine, tongue sliding past my lips to stroke mine and I was pretty sure he knew.

I was his to do with as he pleased.

My mouth chased him as he pulled back.

“You want me to make you come again?”

“Please.”

“So polite.”

He picked me up by my waist and took the few steps backwards needed to be back at my bed when he pivoted.

“Bend your knees.”

What did he say?

“Wh-”

“Come on, bend your knees.”

He took one more step and deposited me on my knees on my bed. His fingers wiggled against my inner thigh.

“Open.”

He tightened his grip as he plunged his fingers between my labia, finding me wet and waiting for him. If he hadn’t had a firm grip on me, I surely would have collapsed.

“I’m gonna make you come as many times as I can stand before I make love to that sweet, hot pussy of yours.”

“Ohfuck.”

His teeth scraped against the lobe, breath hot in my ear. I could feel his smile.

“Oh, Violet, do you like me telling you what I’m going to do to you?”

“Yes.”

He kissed the back of my neck, chuckling, before continuing.

“I’m gonna make you come with my fingers, then I’ll flip you over and suck on that gorgeous little clit of yours like I just did. Did you like that?”

Nodding was all I could do.

“You liked me keeping you on edge, not letting you come, but you could taste it, couldn’t you? It was right there, just out of your reach. You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Uh huh.”

“You liked me being in control, didn’t you?”

I wasn’t about to start lying to the man.

“Little bit.”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I’ll take care of you, right?”

I knew I could put myself in his more than capable hands. _I was already in his hands._

“Yeah.”

“You know I’ll make you come so hard you see stars, right?”

I’d already merged with the universe once that night.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t wait to make love to you. I’m gonna make you come so many times. I wanna feel your orgasm from inside of you.”

I needed him inside of me.

“Yeah.”

“Then we’ll go to sleep, wake up, and do it all over again.”

I was so close. God, how was I so close already?

“Whadaya say, sound good?”

I whined my answer.

“Yes. Please…”

“You’re close already, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yeah.”

“First one’s free. You have to work for all the others you’re gonna have.”


	19. Chapter 19

I’d like to be able to say that Nick did what he said he’d do. Nick tried, he really did. At least, I think he tried to keep his word.  But he didn’t, he wouldn’t; he refused.

That next orgasm hit and I couldn’t stop shaking.  He held me close and he became gentle, so incredibly gentle with me. He was patient, waiting for my body to relax, waiting for me to come back to him. I was ready for him to do what he said he would, flip me over and, well, yeah. That. But he didn’t do it.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. It’s not like he stopped. He did it, but he didn’t, not like he said he would. Instead of flipping me over he picked me up and moved me to the middle of the bed. He didn’t give me any time to be concerned.

“I can’t do that, tease you like that. I can’t do what it is that I want and not think about what you deserve. I’d be no better than them and it would just be cruel right now. I don’t want to deny you anything tonight. Anything you want, it’s yours. All you have to do is ask.”

I was so confused. “But, you said-”

He stopped my train of thought with the gentlest kiss, distracting me in the best possible way. When he finished I found myself on top of him.

“I know what I said.” His barely there caress of my cheek distracted us both. Or maybe he was trying to figure out what he wanted to say. “I can’t be like the other men who’ve been in your life, Vi.”

How on earth could he think- “You’re not anywhere close to them!”

“All they did was think of themselves, and just now, that’s all I was doing, too.”

I did not just hear that. “Not even.”

“Yeah, I was. It was what I wanted and I was only thinking about what I wanted. It shouldn’t be about me.”

“Nick-”

“I want tonight to be about you-”

“Nick, please-”

“Baby, please let me finish.”

My jaw snapped shut.

“You’ve drawn the short straw so many times and I just, I want you to know what it’s like, you know, to be put first.”

I couldn’t help myself, I had to kiss this beautiful man. Soft, gentle, I needed to tell him, convince him- “I know what it’s like. You put me first all the time.”

“Consider this just one more way, then.”

I tried, really, I tried to get him to see the point he wouldn’t let me make. I didn’t want it to be about one person or the other, him or me. I wanted it to be about both of us, but he wouldn’t let me speak. He shushed me when his fingers played down my spine, venturing low enough to grab what little ass I had and hold me to him. He quieted me when his other hand reached up, seizing my hair and twisting my head head to the side. He silenced me when his lips scaled from my shoulder to my ear, inciting a riot in my body by inducing tingles and gooseflesh. I was paralyzed, more along for the ride than anything else.

“I’m making up for lost time and for all the assholes you’ve had in your life.”

“That’s not your responsibility.”

“I want the responsibility.”

“Why do you want that?”

“Is that what you want, to talk?”

“No. Yes, I need to know.”

“And all I want to do right now is make love to my girl.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather. “I’m your girl?”

I didn’t like that his eyes got sad. “The fact that you ask that, Vi, means I’m not doing my job. You are absolutely my girl.”

Here he was, telling me all sorts of beautiful things and I didn’t believe him. It wasn’t that he wasn’t believable, it was that I had a hard time believing that there were men like him in the world: good, kind, caring. All of the men I’d come in contact with, well, they were like all other men I’d come into contact with in my life, whether personal or professional.

So when he held me and kissed me and made it about the kiss and not about sex, I was surprised. I’m not proud of this, but for the briefest of moments I thought he was going to leave. That was the thought that worked its way into my head. Normally, I’d have pulled away, but I fought off that urge.

He wasn’t like the others, not even close. He’d proved that to me when he was good to me and didn’t pressure me for anything. He’d proved to me on the anniversary of my mother’s death that he was kind and patient, more patient than I had a right to ask for, but I hadn’t even had to ask, he’d just given. All he’d ever done with me was give. I wondered just when he’d let me give back to him.

I finally put everything out of my mind and listened to what he was telling me. The wordless conversation went something like…

He kissed me, his plush lips so soft, making me pay attention to the littlest detail of him. He wasn’t shouting or yelling at me, no. He was whispering to me to get all the stupid voices out of my head.

His fingertips traced the lines of my face and jaw, the gentlest of touches, making me giggle and shiver and break away from him, only to have him wrestle me back to the bed, pin my arms overhead. I immediately stopped struggling as I felt my heart speed up.

His hand, his whole hand, moved from my chin to my throat, letting me know he was there as he applied more pressure, soothing the tingles and shivers yet, at the same time, leaving gooseflesh in its wake.

When he flipped his hand over and softly stroked down my breastbone before curling and coming back up to palm my breast, he was the only person in the world as far as I was concerned.

I was hungry for more of him.

I turned on my side and put my arm around him, pushing with my body. He relented and rolled to his back, taking me with him. I needed more than the gentle kiss, my hand coming up to find his face. I became the insistent one, and he let me.

Oh, oh, he let me.

I’d never had a man let me be the one to determine what we’d do next and Nick was letting me! I got a bit of a rush when I realized that. I pulled my arm from under him and pushed up, never more thankful for the planks my one-time trainer had insisted I do every day.

We just… looked at each other. It wasn’t that we were waiting, as least, it didn’t feel like that to me. It felt like the conversation we’d been having continued…

_You’ll really let me do what I want, Nick?_   
_Tonight is about you. I only want what you want._   
_What if all I want is to cuddle?_   
_Then that’s all we’ll do._   
_What if I want you to take me?_   
_Then I’ll take you._   
_Do it._   
_What?_   
_Take me._

As if on cue, he reached up and cupped my face, pulling me back down.

His kisses, oh, his kisses, holy hell. I was on fire.

I felt his barely restrained urgency, wanting to give me what I’d silently asked for but still unsure if that was what he should do. I decided to help him out, tell him what I wanted when I rolled off of him, tugging at his waist to keep our bodies in constant contact.

He got the hint and was on top of me within seconds.

I felt like I was glowing from every place he was touching me with his fingers, his lips, his tongue, and his beard. I tried to hurry him up, to kiss him harder, to undress him. I wanted, no, that wasn’t right, I needed his skin against mine. I needed to feel him, to feel close to him. I needed him so much my heart ached.

I was glad he wasn’t wearing a sweater. That would have been too much, too itchy against my skin. It also made it easier for me to squeeze my arms between us so I could start to unbutton his shirt. This time he didn’t stop me. It took more effort than I wanted it to, but I finally got his shirt untucked and unbuttoned. I wanted it off of him, but he’d have to cooperate. Did I want his shirt off, or to start on his pants, or just to hold him close? Had I ever been faced with such a dilemma?

I wanted his skin, his warm, soft skin. I needed to feel him. Evidently, that was what he needed, too, as he dug his arms under, kissing, so thoroughly kissing me that I’m pretty sure time stood still.

Or maybe it was midnight and Santa was passing overhead. Thanks, Santa, I got what I’ve always longed for this year. You can give my present to someone else.

Soft lips, insistent tongues, shared breath, smiles and moans and even some laughter: we took our time. As much as I wanted him, I also wanted to savor this man, so for a while I let him dictate our pace as I explored the broad planes of his back, feeling his skin ripple as I ran my stubby nails over him, venturing lower and lower. He smiled his way out of the kiss when my hands found his waistband, venturing beneath. I was pretty sure I could bounce a quarter off his butt, and I kinda wanted to try.

I pulled my hands out and pushed him to roll, me getting on top again. No words spoken and you know what? I kinda liked it. I pushed up and he finally, finally let me unbuckle his belt and unbutton and unzip his pants. I laughed when he sighed. I think he could tell I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I didn’t want any further delays. I got up, holding my hand out to him and pulled him up to stand at the side of my bed.

Hair disheveled, lips a deep ChapStick-cherry red, skin flushed, eyes glassy, clothes undone and barely hanging on his body: God, he looked good enough to eat.

Oh, yeah, his body. I was finally getting a good look and the man did not disappoint. So many guys are either waifs or muscle-bound. I guess you could say I prefer them to be in between, and that’s exactly what Nick was: fantastic and just enough muscles in all the right places, like his chest and his arms and no wonder why he could always pick me up so easily!

You know what’s funny? I’d always preferred men who had no chest hair. Nick, though, he changed my mind on that subject. It was dark and short and lay flat against him, much like his beard. There were some swirl patterns and I wanted to trace them, to learn them, to memorize them. I lay my hands on him, gentle, and looked up as I swept his shirt off his shoulders.

“Are you sure you want this, Vi?”

If it hadn’t been silent in my room, I don’t think I would have heard him. He caught me off guard with his question. I said the only thing that would come to mind.

“Nick, I need you. Make love to me?”

He kissed me as his shirt dropped to the floor, my hands at his waist pushing his pants and boxers down. He wouldn’t let me bend down to get them all the way off, instead picking me up, hugging me close, and turning us around. He put me back on the bed as he took his pants off the rest of the way.

I didn’t want to look. No, wait, I did, I mean, I really did. I didn’t want to make him think that was all I was interested in, so I didn’t. I didn’t care about- well, that’s not right, I did. I was interested in the man, in the whole man.

That’s when I knew he’d always be part of my life, whether or not he was in my life, and that gave me comfort. I had a man in my life, as in an adult, someone who saw me for me, and not as some sort of, I don’t know, conquest? Arm candy? Whatever it was that the others had seen.

“Shit. Do you have a condom?”

I’d had such a hard time at the store buying them that I blushed with the memory as I opened my bedside table and pulled the box out. I fumbled trying to open it and was relieved when Nick took it from me.

“New box?”

“Listen to you! Yes, it’s new. First one I ever bought.”

“When?”

“On my way home from work today.”

He pulled one out and tossed it onto the bed before closing the box and dropping it back on the table. He paused before he turned back around. I would have sworn he had his little kid’s _we’re really going to Disneyland smile_.

“You bought those for me? The first time you bought condoms, you bought them for me?”

I’m sure I was turning every shade of pink that existed. All I could do was duck my head and nod.

And that was when I finally got a look at him. Wow. One and only one word would come to mind.

Beautiful.

Huge.

Okay, that’s two words.

You know, I find it funny. The other men I’d been with had always talked a big game but were sorely lacking and really didn’t know what they were doing. Nick, well, the man definitely knew what to do with his tongue, and on top of that he was well-endowed and he didn’t just rely on that? Who was this man? Why was he such a good man?

Was this going to be-

Shut up, Violet!

“Honey?”

Nick being sweet to me? That just made it worse.

“Vi… Violet, why won’t you look at me?”

I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t tell him. And then I looked at him. I couldn’t help myself. “I just… it just… okay, you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but it feels like my first time.”

“Nope, not crazy. I feel the same way.”

“I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

He climbed onto the bed and lay next to me. When he pulled on my shoulder and helped me down next to him, I snuggled into his warmth. I let my finger trace the swirl patterns on the hairs on his chest. I’d expected him to say something so when he didn’t, I glanced up. He had the goofiest smile on his face.

“Never disappointed. Ever.”

His words, his earnestness, everything about him gave me courage to fully trust him.

His hair tickled the palm of my hand as I got to know his body. I was curious if he was ticklish so I tested him, softening my touch. Nothing. Well, not nothing, but no tickling. I tried lower, scraping my nails along his well-defined six-pack. When the response I got was groaning, I ventured south. The lower I went, the lower his voice got, and the louder he got. He was already hard, but I saw him twitch in anticipation. I thought about teasing him like he’d done me, but I couldn’t do it. While I needed him inside me, I wanted to take care of him, too.

I wrapped my hand around him. Hot and silky smooth and hard, but yet soft, too. I needed, I needed…

I got up, bending over his torso and kissing him. He caught my head before I could move any lower.

“That’s really nice of you, Vi, wanting to do that, but tonight’s about you.”

He grabbed my waist and flipped us, kissing me, spreading my knees apart and his fingers finding me. He took his time. I shouldn’t have been surprised by his patience, but I was. Deliberate and slow and gentle movements against my slick skin, his fingers moved back and forth, sinking deeper and deeper into me, his other hand wrapped around the back of my head, holding me in place, connecting with me.

I pulled on him, doing what I could to let him know what I wanted, but he resisted. Words finally came to me.

“Don’t get me wrong, feels good, but I want you.”

“You sure?”

“God, Nick, yes!”

I barely had an opportunity to whine when I felt his fingers leave before he had his condom on and was rubbing his perfect cock where his fingers had been only moments before.

“I’m gonna go as slow as I can. Tell me if it’s too much.”

Slow movements. In and then out and then back in. His humid breath on my skin, in my ear as he moved. My whimper and his groan and my fingers gripping him. Hips, frantic.

He got up on his forearms, stilling me with his smile, our eyes locked as he took his time coming to rest all the way inside of me.

Full, so full, almost too full, but I wanted it. I knew it would be hard with anyone since it had been a couple of years, but Nick was big. It was why I’d been squirming, frantic.

“You okay, Vi?”

“Yeah, it’s just… it’s been a while.”

“Are you in pain?”

He tried to pull out and I almost shrieked at him. I was glad, for once, that I had long legs. I swung them around his waist and held on with all my might. I knew he could have broken free if he wanted.

“I’m okay. I want you right where you are.”

“Are you sure?”

“You don’t need to keep asking me that. I know I can trust you. I do have one request.”

“Anything, just name it.”

“Make love to me.”

Oh, boy did he.

It was beautiful and perfect, well, as perfect as a first time can be between two people as they get to know one another, but as far as I was concerned, it was.

I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to fall asleep with someone as I was with Nick that night. Sure, he and I had slept together, so I knew I could, but this was different. I was relaxed, content, at peace. Something had changed between us and while I didn’t want to put a label on it, I knew that Nick was going to have a long lasting impact on my life.


	20. Chapter 20

Christmas was perfect. Of course, it helped that I had the perfect man in my life. He started the day off with breakfast in bed and let me tell you: he’d been wrong. He didn’t have only one meal he could cook. The cheese scrambled eggs and bagel were perfect and cheesy and yummy.

Did I mention Nick was perfect?

We ate and cuddled and talked and that was all before we got out of bed. Since most everything was closed there wasn’t much we could do but stay inside? Well, there was no way either of us would complain about that.

The day turned out to be relaxing and romantic and I can’t even tell you how many times we made love since I lost count. Neither of us could get enough of the other and I think that we were pretty much touching the whole day, with some of the time it being just fingers or hands but mostly it was more than just that. So much more.

He finally was a man of his word when I explained to him that I’d liked what he’d said he’d do to me and boy oh boy did he deliver. I hadn’t known I was capable of all that, and I had the absolute best time finding out. Pretty sure he did, too, since he took his sweet time.

There was only one drawback to the day and I know, it’s going to sound so crazy, but I knew, I mean I knew that I was falling in love with Nick. Crazy, right? Who falls in love with someone after knowing them for less than a month? I scared myself when I found that I almost let it slip. ‘I’m falling in love with you’ was on my mind as we were sitting down to dinner. I covered, I think I did, anyway, when I stumbled through a-

“I’m f- happy you’re here today, Nick.”

His chuckle and “you’re f-happy?” had us both giggling, and my turning several shades of embarrassed was easily written off over the flub. It actually became our thing: how are you? I’m f-happy.

Pretty sure that if I’d said what was in my heart that he would have found some excuse to leave and never look back.

We finished off the day with more time naked and together and like I said, the day was perfect.

* * *

My life changed New Year’s eve, and not in the way that you probably think it did.

I worked the early shift and we knew it would be busy with everyone scrambling for last minute outfits for whatever soiree they were going to be attending that evening. Luckily, I already had something picked out and waiting for me to get home. I was looking forward to having a real date that night with my boyfriend (I’d heard him call me his girlfriend on the phone to someone and when I asked him about it his response was kinda like ‘well duh you’re my girlfriend’ so I went with it). I knew he’d be working but that didn’t really matter to me: he and I were going to be together.

My shift was up and I was gathering stuff together to head home when Tina walked into the store. Her grin was infectious as she laced her arm with mine and led me a couple of blocks away to one of those really high-priced restaurants that served stamp-sized portions at outrageous prices. We caught up on holiday happenings for both of us and I will say this: she was pleased for me when I told her that Nick had shown his true colors and that they were all good. She clucked her approval as we walked into the restaurant and you could have knocked me over with a feather when we ended up at a table with all the women who’d come into the store the weeks before Christmas.

“Please, Violet, sit down. We have something we’d like to discuss with you.”

* * *

It was a couple of hours before I got home which meant I was sooo late! I hopped into the shower and pretty much set the world record for least water used. As I was putting on my makeup, I thought about wearing my hair up: it would take less time to style than if I straightened it. The only problem with that, though, was that Nick liked to play with my hair. He liked running his fingers through it. He liked how soft it was. Most of all, though, he liked making me shiver when his fingers would touch my neck or when, while playing with my hair, the tail of the pony he’d make would brush over my skin. He liked having an effect on me. Who am I kidding, I loved it.

I knew I’d be late but didn’t care.

I wanted his hands on my head, fingertips massaging their way to the back of my head. I wanted his other hand on my face, caressing my cheek. I wanted his lips on mine… I got lost in the moment, caught up in everything I wanted with him. I wanted so much.

I wanted everything I could get with him. I wanted every experience I could possibly imagine. I wanted to share everything with him. In less than a month’s time he’d become the most important person in my life. I knew I had to wait, to bide my time before telling him this. It was too much, too sudden, too early in our relationship for these feelings, and yet here they were, taking up residence in my head and not letting me think about anything else, and I had so much to think about, so much to decide.

I mean, it would be crazy if I didn’t take them up on their offer, right?

It was because I was so late leaving my place that I took a taxi. I really shouldn’t have, I should have walked or taken the bus or subway so I could save my money but I was so late and I didn’t want to miss any part of the night with Nick. Granted, he was going to be playing almost all night, but still, I didn’t want to miss my midnight kiss.

I got to the club and gave my name at the door… and they wouldn’t let me enter. I wasn’t on their list. I had them check several times and asked to check the list myself. I wasn’t on it. Naturally, I was surprised and called Nick. I was sure he wouldn’t pick up but it must have been between sets. When he found out I couldn’t get in, he came out and ushered me in himself. He swore up and down that he’d put my name on the list, but that didn’t matter, and he quickly shut his mouth when we got to the table and I took off my coat.

I loved watching his smile get bigger and brighter as he took in my outfit. My sheer silver dress had a strategically placed art deco pattern embellished with sequins and beads, giving the illusion of curves greater than I had. 

“Turn around.”

I heard it, how much he wanted me. I spun for him, delighting in how he made me feel.

“How the hell am I supposed to play tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

He wrapped me up tight in his arms as he spoke in my ear. “You can’t possibly be wearing anything under that dress. How am I supposed to concentrate on my music?”

“I could leave, if that’ll make it easier for you.”

“Don’t you dare!”

I didn’t care that we were in public. I didn’t care that there were lots of eyes on us. I didn’t care that some of them were from people who obviously wanted me to disappear. All I cared about was that Nick wanted me, and he wanted me with him. My boyfriend wanted me there.

I wanted to tease him, to make him distracted so he wouldn’t have eyes for anyone except me the whole night. “I am wearing one thing under this dress.”

“What, a thong?”

“Nope.”

“You’re not wearing a bra.”

“Nope.”

“Then what?”

“I’m wearing stockings. Thigh highs.”

“Fuck! I hate you so much right now.” His smile and the puppy dog look in his eyes told me different.

I felt, I don’t know, 10 years younger? “I hate you, too.” Neither of us could keep a straight face. “I guess that means you don’t want to kiss me, then, do you?”

If I didn’t know any better I’d have thought we were back in my place, one hand on my butt and another on the back of my head, holding me the way he always does, bodies flush against each other so we can feel everything. His nose against mine, his lips kissing the corners and the tip of my nose before taking over and making me think only of him. There was no urgency to this kiss, the way we reveled in each other-

“Earth to Nick. Nick?”

I tried to break away, let him talk to whoever was trying to get his attention, but he wouldn’t have it.

“Dude, seriously, let Violet come up for air.”

That got him laughing which meant we were done. For now.

He headed to where they were all gathering off stage as they prepared for their next set. I headed back to the table and bumped into Ginger along the way.

To say she was surprised to see me was an understatement.

“How’d you get in?”

That explained everything, why my name wasn’t on the list to get into the party. What, did she think I would just turn around and go home? I put on my sweetest, dreamiest smile.

“I’m sorry?”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m here with Nick. We’ve had the absolute best week and he didn’t want me anywhere else but by his side for the New Year. Excuse me.” Sure, I’d gone overboard, but it was all true. I was pretty sure her head was going to explode, and if it wasn’t going to because of what I’d just said, it sure happened when she saw me turn around and head over to where Nick was. They were getting ready to start the next set and, knowing she tried to keep me away from him, well, I’d decided to throw our relationship in her face. I know it was petty, but I really didn’t care.

The best part? I forgot about her when Nick saw me and grinned. Nothing else in the world mattered, not a single thing. He gave me a sweet kiss before heading up the stairs to the stage.

There were a couple of sets before the big countdown, and all the guys had their significant others come up on the stage with them as we got rid of the old year and rung in the new. Everything erupted and I got my midnight kiss. It was entirely too short, but Nick had assured me that when they were done with the current set he’d give me a proper kiss.

They played Auld Lang Syne and then broke, playing some recorded songs. Nick hopped down off the stage and made a bee line for me and I was finally going to get my-

Ginger. Yet again, she came between us, stopping him a couple feet from me.

“Don’t I get a kiss, Nick?”

I could see he didn’t know what to do, typical man, so I decided to rescue him. I closed the gap with only a couple of steps and took his hand before turning to Ginger.

“Sorry to interrupt, but my boyfriend and I want some time together. Alone. I’m sure you can understand.”

I didn’t wait for her response, instead tugging on his hand as we walked away to a corner where we could be together.

“Are you sure that was wise?”

“I think next time you need to be the one to set her straight. If you don’t, I’m sure she’ll just keep on trying to come between us.”

“Enough about her. But, before we move on, one more thing?”

“Yes?”

“I liked hearing you call me your boyfriend.”

“Well, I liked saying it.”

“Tell me three other things you like, Violet.”

This was a game Nick and I had played several times over the past couple of days. I liked this game. I decided to start a little differently this time.

“Your breakfasts, your lips, and your kind eyes. Now you.”

“Your laughter, your smile, and your coffee. You again.”

“More? Okay, let me think… Your ability to tell a story, your patience, falling asleep in your arms.”

“You want to do that again tonight?”

“Every night I can. Now you.”

“Kissing you, making love to you, and falling in love with you.”

No sound, no one else around, nothing. My world became him, just Nick. Did he-

“Wha-”

“Yeah, you heard me right. I’m falling in love with you, Violet.”

“Really? I’m not the only- I mean, it’s not too soon?”

He closed his eyes and got the biggest smile. Goodness. Wow. He was in love with me?

“Not the only… Violet.” The song switched and hearing Ella’s beautiful voice made me giddy. “No, you’re not the only one falling in love, Violet.”

What are you doing New Year’s Eve?

I decided to answer Ella. “I’m falling in love, that’s what I’m doing.”

I could have drowned in his eyes. “What?”

“It’s what I’m doing this New Year’s Eve, Nick, falling in love. Well, finally telling my guy I’m falling in love.”

“You’re really falling in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Finally telling? When did you know?”

“Pretty sure it was the night of the fire. Knowing I could have lost you-”

“But you didn’t.”

“You’re right, I didn’t, and I’m not going to let myself get scared about it. But…” I’d opened the can of worms, I might as well dump them all out onto the table. “But, but Mom was taken from me and the fire told me that you’re important to me, and you know what?”

“What?”

“I don’t want to live my life in fear.”

The thought that had been mulling over and over in my head since my time with Tina and the women came into crystal clear focus and I knew I’d made my decision, or I knew the decision I wanted to make. Having Nick in my life might complicate it, but he had to understand.

That was a conversation for another time, not for tonight. Tonight was about welcoming in a New Year that was full of hope and dreams.

And love.


	21. Chapter 21

The party went so late but I didn’t care. I was on the moon the rest of the night, most of the rest of the night, anyway.

Nick was falling in love with me!

Most of the guys in his band were really sweet and a couple of them thought they were funny, just a laugh a minute as they tried to keep us apart, interrupting us on each break. They claimed that they wanted to get to know me since Nick couldn’t stop talking about me, and they really did, but I think the interruptions were starting to bother Nick. How would I know that? He squirreled me away to our own table so we could be alone, if by alone I mean just the two of us surrounded by a huge crowd of people.

Thing is, we weren’t really alone. The first time I came back from the bathroom I had to shoo away one of his band mates so we could sit and talk, which meant really staring into each other’s eyes and holding hands and stealing a kiss or two. Or ten.

After their last set, we’d again holed up at our own table (Nick wanted to come down a bit from the high of performing) and it was after coming out of the bathroom, thinking that we’d be on our way home, that I found Ginger in my seat. I’d had enough of her trying to come between us. I’d told Nick what I thought she’d done, removing my name from the guest list, so when I approached I didn’t stand there in the background, I didn’t ask her to move. Instead, I sat on Nick’s lap and gave him a kiss. Her head exploded.

“Excuse me, but we were having a private conversation.”

It took me more than a little time to respond since, this time, it was my head that exploded. I turned and caught Nick’s eye. I waited a couple of beats before I asked him, “do you need me to leave?” I didn’t shout or scream and I didn’t talk loudly enough for Ginger to hear me, and I’m pretty sure that he caught what I was really trying to say.

Before he answered, and loudly enough so Ginger could hear, he put both arms around my waist and pulled me closer. “Don’t you dare leave. It wasn’t private.”

I was glad he understood. I was happy he hadn’t accused me of being jealous or territorial. I mean, I was being territorial, but I didn’t care. I was tired of her trying to come between us, like literally: keep us apart, physically, and Nick was, too. He’d told me about it during one of his earlier breaks. She’d been doing this for a while, since his very first gig, in fact. Ginger was persistent, I had to give her that. He’d been polite while always keeping her at arm’s length, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

I was joking, naturally, when I’d asked him if that was the reason he’d taken an interest in me, because I wasn’t her. You should have seen the look on his face: utter horror, before he assured me his interest in me had nothing to do with her. I had to assure him I’d been joking. I think my kisses were what put me back in his good graces.

I had to give her credit: Ginger persisted in her efforts to get him all to herself. “I was coming up to the part that was just for you.”

“If you can’t be saying it in front of Violet, you probably shouldn’t be saying it.”

Maybe? Maybe things started to click for her?

“I was going to invite you over tomorrow, Nick.”

“Oh, like an open house? What can I bring?” I’d decided to kill her with kindness. I didn’t want to be an outcast in the group and who knew just how close she was to everyone else. There might have been people who were routing for the two of them to start dating, and who knew: they still might have been.

“Not exactly an open house, I mean, my place is small so I was going to keep the guest list… small.”

“You’ve got room for one more, don’t you? The three of us fit at this table for two just fine.”

I piped up, wanting to partake in his game. “I can always sit on the floor.”

“You’re not sitting on the floor, Vi.”

“No? Where will I sit, Nick?”

I’m pretty sure that if we’d been all alone I would have heard a very different, and by different I definitely mean intimate, answer. “You’ll sit on my lap, keep me warm.”

He was keeping me all sorts of warm… and fuzzy and happy.

“Oh, well, I guess you can come too, if that’s what you want, Nick.”

“She’s my girlfriend, Ginger. Of course she’ll be with me.” Hallelujah, the “g” word! “We’ll talk it over and I’ll see what we have planned for tomorrow.”

“If we go I’ll definitely want to bring something. What time’s the get together?”

“Girlfriend? You guys are already that serious?” We both heard the disappointment in her voice and I felt for her, I really did. No, seriously, I actually did. Nick was such a good guy, and funny and handsome and just awesome. I understood why she had her sights set on him. Problem was, he was already spoken for.

“I’ve been serious about her for a while now, since before I met her. We haven’t spent a night apart in what, two weeks?”

That couldn’t have been right, could it? “Has it really been two weeks?” I had to think back… “Oh my God, tonight’ll be two weeks!” Hold on- “Wait, since before we met? Really?”

I heard it, when reality finally began to sink in and I felt sorry for her.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” He was looking right at me, but I wasn’t sure who he was answering when it hit me: his answer worked for both of us. “I told you, August.”

“Well, yeah, you saw me that day, but-”

“No buts, August.” His fingertips were on my chin, my lips, my cheek. Everything else dropped away and it was just the two of us having a lovely and intimate chat. “Long time. I wanted to talk to you for a long time. And then I did and I wanted to be around you every chance I got and you let me and then I talked with Max. I fell in love with you after I talked with Max, when I understood what was going on and everything made sense. You inspire me, Vi.”

You could’ve knocked me over with a feather. “How do I inspire you?”

“Your mom, and everything you’ve been through. You’re working on your dream, your pictures. You’re strong. And you knew, I mean at what was it? 16? You knew you didn’t want to model anymore, that it wasn’t for you? It takes guts to walk away from that stuff, from that kind of money.”

“Wait, after Max? So before Christmas Eve?”

“Absolutely before Christmas Eve.” His sincerity came through loud and clear. This wasn’t love because of sex. This realization short-circuited my brain.

“You cannot possibly be in love with her already.”

Ginger startled us when she interrupted. I know I’d forgotten she was there.

“I am.” He’d been looking at me pretty much since I’d sat on his lap. I wasn’t happy when he looked away from me. “Stop trying to get me alone, trying to come between us. It’s not gonna happen.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing!”

“But I know exactly what I’d be missing if I let Violet go. Trust me, Ginger, you’ll find someone, and he’ll be the right person for you.”

I seriously thought Ginger’s head was going to explode. I would have sworn that her eyes bugged out as her face tried to match the color of her hair. I braced for something, maybe yelling? Maybe slapping me? I was sure something would happen.

When all she did was get up and leave, I wondered if that would be the last we’d see of her. Nick’s words refocused me.

“Let’s have tomorrow be just us. This is all so new and I’m going to be tired, this was a really late gig, and I have some things I want to talk to you about-”

“I have things to talk to you about, too.”

“Like what?”

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Sure. Let’s go home.”

Home. That word meant so much more now than it had even a couple of hours ago.


	22. Chapter 22

We ended up spending the night at his place instead of mine. We’d been spending a lot of time at my place and I wanted to spend time in his, too. It felt like he was always prioritizing me and what I wanted or what he thought I needed and I didn’t want anything about this relationship to be one-sided. Besides, with the conversation I knew we’d be having the next day I wanted him to be in his place, comfortable. It was going to be hard, but I had to tell him.

Even with the performance the night before, Nick was still the first one up, and early. At least, I assumed it was early because it felt early, the light was early light, you know, that dull glow right before the sun comes up above the horizon with the strong morning light. I felt him get back into bed after putting on the coffee so I turned over and we hugged and snuggled in and promptly feel right back to sleep.

The next time I woke I didn’t want to get out of bed. I knew it was going to be cold and it would wake me up too much and I didn’t want that. I wanted to stay right where I was, nestled against the man who loved me- _Nick is in love with me!_ \- but I really had to pee so I braved it and regretted it as soon as my feet hit the floor. Everything was cold and my eyes popped wide as I rushed to the bathroom.

I decided to head to the kitchen, too, to grab some coffee and that was when I found the machine had turned off and the coffee wasn’t all that hot. It really had been early; it was now after noon.

“You don’t want coffee?”

Nick’s just woke up voice, lower, gruffer, always did things to me: made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up and it gave me tingles and I had to stop myself from turning and tackling him to the cold floor. He draped a blanket over my shoulders and slung his arm around it as we stood side by side, staring at the coffee pot.

“It’s pretty much room temperature which means it’s cold. We can stick it in the microwave.”

“Nah. I’ll make some more.”

“That’s such a waste.”

“Not if it means we can get back in bed, maybe fall asleep again? I don’t know when the next day we’ll have off at the same time to just, I don’t know, be together?”

Little did he know how right he was. I wasn’t ready to have that conversation yet. “When do you have off?”

“Duke was able to find us something for tomorrow, but with the club down we don’t have a steady gig. He told us he’ll do what he can to give us 24 hours notice, but we don’t know what’s up from one week to the next. Hell, from one day to the next.”

That fire had cost him so much. The stability of a steady gig was gone, albeit temporarily. “Are you worried about money?”

“I’ve got some- you know, go back to bed, let me fix the coffee and I’ll be in after I turn on the heat. I’d rather be warm when we’re talking.”

* * *

It took us a while to continue that conversation. First was getting back in bed and warming up and falling right back to sleep. Maybe not _sleep_ sleep, more of a light snooze. It had to be at least an hour after we woke up that we finally picked back up where we left off.

“So, you’re playing tomorrow night. When’s the next time after that?”

“With Duke? I don’t know. I’ve got some sessions lined up and I’ve got money saved. I know Duke’s trying to find another club until Miles opens his back up.”

While it wasn’t really my business, I was still concerned. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

Nick brushed my hair back before giving me a sweet kiss. “Yeah. I’ve got enough money saved and some work lined up the next couple of weeks. It’s not steady, but I should be able to manage.” I was surprised he’d stopped talking since it sounded like he had more he wanted to say. I loved that I could silently ask the question, my brows quirking up. It seemed to be just the encouragement he needed to continue. “I’ve been thinking about a way to make what I have stretch even longer.”

“What’s that?”

He didn’t say anything, not right away, anyway. The longer the silence stretched, the more my heart sped up. What was he afraid of?

“My idea requires you. You game?”

“Um…” That came out of left field, and then I wondered if I’d been talking in my sleep. Did he know what I needed to tell him? Should I have answered right away? Maybe the rest of the day would have gone differently if I had.

“You not game, Vi?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

“You don’t know?”

“You haven’t told me what it is you’re thinking, Nick.”

“Fair enough.” I was pretty sure he didn’t know and that made me breathe a bit easier, for now. “I’m thinking you should move in with me, or I move in with you, really. My lease is up in a couple of months and I know that we’re going to be staying with each other every night, spending all our time together. It doesn’t make sense to spend money for two places when we only really need one.”

Okay, he didn’t know, and then what he asked sunk in. “Wow.”

“What do you think?”

“Live together. You want us to live together?”

“We’re kinda living together already…”

“Okay… sure… it’s just…”

“What, don’t you want to?”

He was serious. _He was serious!_ How could he be so serious already? “It was like, what, 12 hours ago that you told me you loved me? And now you want to move in together?  I always thought…” Crap, I let that slip out. In my defense, though, he’d surprised me.

“What?”

What should I say, the truth? Mom always taught me the truth was best, but I wasn’t sure.

“Violet, come on, tell me what’s going on.”

Truth. Best to go with the truth. “I always thought that living with someone was a really important decision and you’d only do it if you were seriously thinking you were going to get married.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?”

“ _What?_ ”

“You don’t want to marry me?”

“Are you actually asking me to marry you?”

“No, but do you want to?”

“It sounds like you’re asking!”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“But that’s not, wait, you’re asking me to live with you. You want to live with me. You don’t want to marry me-”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just not asking right now.”

“Wait, you do want-”

“Violet?”

“Yeah?”

“You can stop freaking out. I’m not asking you to marry me, not that I wouldn’t want to but that’s a future thing. I don’t think either of us is ready for something like that, but I am asking you to live with me.”

I cannot even begin to imagine what I would have said if he’d actually been asking me to marry him. But, but, oh God, he was asking me to move in with him, or maybe he was asking to move in with me. I wasn’t sure which it was.

Thing was, it didn’t matter. What mattered was he wanted us to live together. I wondered if that was going to remain the case when I told him my news.

“You don’t want to live with me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you haven’t said yes.”

“I didn’t even know you a month ago!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

I just about flew off the handle and then something hit me. Last night he talked about how he’d been serious since before we met, and that he’d fallen in love with me after talking with Max and that was what, like a week, maybe a week and a half after I cooked for him? And that was two weeks before he told me. This had been going on a lot longer for him than it had for me, so sure, to him this hadn’t just happened. And he told me he’d been thinking about it so it’s not like this was a spur of the moment kind of thing. Hmmm…

“I have a question for you, Nick.”

“Shoot.”

“How long have you been thinking about us living together?”

His eyes narrowed, but I didn’t take offense. He didn’t know where I was going.

“Christmas.”

Now it was starting to make sense.

“And when did you decide to ask me?”

“Last night, when you sat on my lap and we basically told Ginger to back off.”

“So, you’ve been thinking about it for a week and you just decided last night, and yet you want me to answer right now?”

“I thought you’d say yes. Do you not want to?”

I couldn’t help my laughter. I was nervous and I didn’t know what I should say. Did I want to? Maybe. And that wasn’t maybe because I was thinking no, it was maybe because I was thinking yes but it had been less than a month. What would my mom have said if she were alive?

Mom. God, I missed her. I needed her, now more than ever.

I untangled my legs and got up, putting the sweats on that I’d snagged last night before we settled in for the night. Still silent, I headed out and grabbed a cup of coffee, thankful for the heat of the ceramic mug on my hands. I sat at the table in the kitchen and thought. I missed Mom. I needed her guidance and needed to be alone for a minute or two to see if I could connect with her, channel her, hear her voice.

She was silent. It was like she’d abandoned me to fend for myself.

I hugged my knees to my chest, pulling my sweatshirt over them to keep myself warm. That was about the time I heard him walking down the hall. He slumped into the chair across from me, so far away and completely closed off, not touching me, not reaching out to me. Not kissing me. And then I made the mistake of looking at him.

_Oh my God, I_ _’d kicked the puppy._

Sad eyes and no smile and no energy. What had I done? I had to fix this, well, tell him what was going on anyway.

“Vi, just forget-”

“No!” I wasn’t quite sure where that shout came from, but at least it stopped him from finishing what he was about to say- _just forget about us and go home_.

“I need to tell you something. See, yesterday…”


	23. Chapter 23

“What about yesterday?”

He had me there. What did I want to tell him? I wanted to tell him everything, because it was all just so amazing, but at the same time I knew that, with my luck, he might not take the news all that well. I decided to plow ahead and let the chips fall where they may. Always better to know sooner rather than later. I mean, I was already in love with him, but if he cut and run it would hurt less if he did it now.

“You remember I told you about those women who were coming in to the store and buying a ton of stuff from me and it made for the best month I’ve ever had?”

“Yeah. Wait, God, don’t tell me they brought everything back.”

“No, thank God.” I shuddered at the thought. That would have been awful. “And, actually, not even close.”

“What do you mean?”

“You remember I mentioned the last woman who came to see me, Tina?”

“The unofficial leader of the group?”

“That’s the one-”

“She was the one who wanted to buy more of your pictures, right? Did you ever show them to her?”

“That’s kinda part of what I’m trying to tell you.”

“Are you telling me to shut up?”

I took a close look at his face and saw he wasn’t the kicked puppy anymore. Maybe, just maybe… I couldn’t think that way. I had to be prepared for the worst.

“No, I’m not telling you to shut up. I’m asking you to let me talk.”

“I’ll shut up.”

Seated across the table from me was entirely too far away. I needed a connection to him and I needed Nick to know I loved him. It took a moment, but when I was finally untangled from my sweatshirt I got up, took his hand, and led him to the couch in his living room. I had him sit and realized I needed something and he laughed when I came back in the room with the huge comforter from his bed. I straddled his lap and draped the navy blue down monstrosity over us and kissed him.

“I love you, Nick.”

“I love you, too, Violet.” He knew how much I loved it when he said my whole name and I just wanted to melt. Instead I gave him a hug and another kiss and then forged ahead.

“As I was leaving yesterday, Tina came into the store-”

“Did she buy more from you?”

“Um, not exactly.”

“Not exactly? Did she buy pictures?”

“Not exactly-”

“What did she buy?”

I wondered if I was ever going to get to say what I had to tell him. Would he be upset?

“Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah?”

“This isn’t like, three sentences and I’m done.”

“You’re telling me to shut up, I’ll shut up.”

“I’m not telling you to shut up. I would never tell you to shut up, I hate that phrase. I’m asking you to let me tell you.”

“How about I be quiet.”

“That is acceptable.” I wondered just how long that would last. He was entirely too eager for me to tell what had happened. “So, Tina came in as I was leaving and we got caught up on Christmas and stuff. Her daughter loved the clothes that she bought and she took my advice: she took a day off work and spent it with her and she said, well, long story short, she thanked me. I don’t think she’d really told me everything that had been going on between them, which wouldn’t surprise me, I mean I am a stranger-”

“A stranger with some really good advice.”

It was such a simple, off-hand comment and it meant so much to me.

“Thank you.” How was I so lucky? Well, we’d see how lucky. “We were walking and talking and I was catching her up on my Christmas and we ended up at one of those froufrou restaurants a few blocks away and walked in and all of those women were there. It was really odd and I felt so out of place. And then I felt kinda ganged up on.”

“Did they hurt you? Is everything okay?”

“The exact opposite, in fact. They all thanked me. Marge and Jenifer and Claudette and Tina all thanked me.” My vision went blurry and I really didn’t want to start crying. I was briefly distracted as I tried to blink the tears away. “There were some women there who were part of this mothers group but hadn’t been to the store because they had boys, but they heard about the advice I’d given the other mothers and they all were doing what they could to spend time with their kids. It was just the best thing-” I felt the tears start down my cheeks and I was a lost cause. “I mean look at me now, I’m starting to cry again.”

I felt Nick’s arms tighten as he pulled me close. “Must feel good to know that someone heard you, that they took your advice.”

“Yeah.”

I tried to stop the tears but they continued. He wiped at them, but to no avail.

“Your mom would be proud of you.”

That was all I needed, to tie this back to my mom. I mean, it was all about her, about how much I wanted just one more day, one more hour, one more _I love you_ or _I_ _’m so proud of you_ from her. I don’t know how I would have gotten through the next few minutes if I didn’t have Nick. I didn’t want to let him go, and I didn’t. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my arms digging into the couch behind him and holding onto him as tight as I could. I felt so complete, being in the arms of the man I was in love with, and yet I felt a little hollow, or maybe more like I was betraying Mom, taking comfort from someone else. It took only a few minutes for it to pass and I sat back up, drying my face. I needed to tell him the important parts.

“So, Tina said that she’d done something for me, that she was really appreciative and wanted to repay me for opening her eyes to what was really important… and I still can’t believe it.”

“What did she do?”

My life had changed when that first woman had walked into the store, I just didn’t know it at the time. “You remember that I lost my apartment because I had no money after Mom died, well, Tina didn’t like that and, in fact, she thought there was something fishy about that.”

“Fishy?”

“Yeah. See, Mom was the best salesperson they had, and it was Christmas, the best season of the year for sales. Mom’s Christmas commissions always carried her for the first several months of the year, at least.”

“So then why didn’t you have money?”

“I never got her commissions.”

“Why not?”

“Because the owner kept them.”

“You’re kidding me!”

“No. And, I mean, I wasn’t thinking straight back then, I was just filled with grief and missing her so much, so it wasn’t until Tina mentioned the commissions that I realized I’d never received them. And when I realized that I got so angry, but that was short-lived, because Tina handed me an envelope. She got the money for me, and frankly she got more because she threatened a lawsuit since they hadn’t given me what was mine. She told him she could make a real case for me and I’d probably get a lot more if it went to trial, because I was so sympathetic. But it didn’t come to that since they gave me more than just her commissions.”

“How much more?”

This was the easy part. I hoped this might smooth the blow of what I still needed to tell him. “All of it together? Just under $50,000.”

“You’re kidding!”

All I could do was shake my head. I couldn’t believe my windfall.

“How much is yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“How much do you get to keep?”

“All of it. I already deposited it.”

“What about Tina’s fee?”

“She didn’t charge me anything and she wouldn’t let me pay, and I tried. She felt bad that no one had taken care of me, well, until you, she’s happy we’re together. I think I brought out the mama bear in her.”

“You told her about me?”

“Yep, and she approves. She hinted that she wants to meet you. I think she wants to size you up herself, make sure you’re a good guy.”

“Seriously?”

“I told you, I brought out the mama bear in her, and she’s so nice and she just wants me to be happy.”

We both had a laugh until he stopped and got really quiet. There was a question on his face, but I hadn’t come to the hard part so I wasn’t sure what he was wondering.

“What?”

“Did you think I was going to ask you for a loan, or think I’d move in with you and live off of you? Is that why you haven’t given an answer?”

“That didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Then there has to be something else. Something’s stopping you. What is it?”

I didn’t want to say. I didn’t want to give him a reason to turn his back on me. I hadn’t realized I was moving away from him until he tightened his grip and stopped me.

“Come on, Vi, what’s up?”

I had to make a conscious effort to stop chewing my lip. “You’re right, there is something else.”

“I don’t care about the money. It’s not about the money, right?”

“Right.” Why couldn’t I just say it?

“Are you going to tell me?”

I nodded before answering. I needed courage. “Yeah.”

“When?”

“I’m afraid this could end up changing what you think of me, make you reassess what you feel for me.”

“I can’t imagine anything doing that.”

I knew he meant it, but…

_You can do this. You can do this. Damn it, Vi, just do it!_

“So, you remember that Tina really liked my photos…”

“Yeah.”

“Earlier this week she asked me to email her some more because she wanted to show them to someone, so I did because I thought maybe I could get a showing… or something.”

“And?”

“Well, so… I didn’t get a _showing_ out of it…” Courage, I needed courage.

“Sounds to me like you did get something.”

I’d come this far, why couldn’t I just say it? _Because I_ _’m terrified this will all be over and done. I had more courage when I quit modeling! You know what? I survived the death of my mother. I can survive anything._

“An opportunity.”

“What kind of opportunity?”

“To maybe, possibly… to intern with… Sasha.”

I knew he didn’t know who Sasha was. We hadn’t talked about the photographers who had inspired me to pick up a camera to begin with. Sasha was at the top of my list.

“Who’s that?”

“Sasha’s not nearly as well-known as Annie Leibovitz, but that’s because she doesn’t do portraits, or at least not that many. She’s, I think she’s more of a photojournalist, and she specializes more in changes in the environment, in people’s situations, in living conditions when parts of the world go through some traumatic events, that kind of stuff.”

“So, like before and after?”

“A little bit, some, yeah. She does a lot of combing through archives and seeing where things have changed for whatever reason, like a lot of it’s environmental and what we’re doing to the planet and it’s not necessarily a before and after shot of the exact same thing for direct comparison, but like that tsunami that hit what, 10 years ago? She was there almost directly after, chronicling what had happened, and she’s gone back each of the years around the anniversary to show the changes to the community, and how they’re rebuilding and coping. I guess it’s more a chronicle of the recovery, so she’s been to Haiti and Turkey and she’s spent a lot of time in Afghanistan and Brazil… Anyway, her pictures can be really powerful and she’s put out several books and a lot of her stuff gets used in magazines and newspapers and online, and, well…”

“You’re going to intern with her?”

“Maybe? She liked what she saw, she said I have a good eye, and she wants to meet me.”

“That’s fantastic!”

“I think so.”

“When are you meeting with her?”

“In a couple weeks, when she’s back from her trip. She’s based here in New York…”

“What aren’t you saying?”

That was when I knew he hadn’t quite caught on yet. “Some of her trips, depending on where she’s going and why she’s going, she can be gone for weeks.”

“Okay- oh.”

I could see it finally sinking in: if I were interning for her, I could easily be gone for weeks at a time. Some of her trips were planned, but if a disaster struck it could be pick up and go and not know when you’re getting home.

“Now you know why I couldn’t answer you.”

“What, because of working with someone? Is she controversial or something? I don’t understand.”

He still didn’t get it? “Because of me being gone.”

“Okay.” For a guy who was smart, he sure wasn’t putting the pieces together.

“Because of being gone for maybe several weeks at a time.”

“That’s a problem for you? I would think it would be easier for you knowing that someone was here, someone could look after your stuff.” Did he really not care? “What?”

“You wouldn’t mind me being gone?”

“Why would I mind you learning your craft from someone you admire?”

“But I’d be gone, could be gone for _weeks_ at a time.”

“Okay. I mean, I’d miss you, I wouldn’t be happy you were away from me, but I’d understand.” He reached up and closed my mouth. “Vi, I’d never hold you back.”

“Really? Like, you wouldn’t expect me to be here for you, like every day?”

“When we’re here, we’d be here for each other and when we’re gone, we’d be here for each other in other ways.”

“Okay…” was this man for real? I had to find out. “There’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If I get it, the internship, and I do well, she’d put my name in for a program that’s out of London and if I get _that_ , I’d be gone a whole year.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Maybe? I mean, I doubt I’d get it, but a recommendation from Sasha would go a long way. Tina said they might overlook the fact that I haven’t studied, that I don’t have a degree.”

“Tina said?”

I could see it all sinking in, I knew he was going to-

“You won’t know if you don’t try. I say go for it.”

“So… then… you don’t really want to move in with me.”

“I didn’t say that. I said go for it. It’s a year. We can survive a year apart.”

“Really?”

“Of course, we can. Hell, I’ll wait forever for you.”

He sounded serious. His intensity told me he was serious.

_Jesus, he was serious._

“You’ll wait? For me?”

“Baby, we have the rest of our lives. One year apart will be a blip on the radar.”

I was pretty sure I hadn’t heard him correctly. It wasn’t possible.

“You just said the rest of our lives. You’re thinking about the rest of our lives.”

“Yeah, I am. Look, I’m not talking about some lifelong thing right now, I can tell you’re a little spooked by that. I want you to have whatever you want, whatever you can make happen. If that means that we have to be apart for a while, so be it. Besides, you might get tired of me in a month.”

“I can’t imagine that happening. I’ve known you for about a month already and I just want to spend more and more time with you.”

Could we really do this?

“Look, I’ve got three months left on my lease, let’s see where we are in two months and have this conversation again. Will that work for you?”

“Yeah.” Nick really wasn’t running screaming for the hills. “My life has changed so much in the past month. I cannot even imagine where it will go from here.”

“You want my predictions?”

“Sure.”

“You’ll get the internship.”

“You think so?”

“Yep. You’ll get the program in London.”

“That’d be a dream.”

“I think it’s something you can absolutely make happen.”

“Really?”

“Really. And I see good things for the two of us.”

“Like what?”

“No. You got spooked before. No worries. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Vi, I’m the lucky one. In fact-” He surprised me when he wrestled me off of him and flipped me, pinning me to the sofa. “I think I need to show you just how much I appreciate you.”

Now that I could get behind.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the story of Violet and Nick comes to an end...

_Almost 5 years later_ _…_

My flight in from London was late. I was not at all happy and knew I’d have a difficult time explaining myself. He was going to be so upset with me!

When I finally got out of the airport, I gave the cabbie the address and settled back, checking my phone for all the texts I’d missed while in the air. I read each one, feeling my eyes mist over time and time again with each _I miss you_ and _where are you_ and _why aren_ _’t you here yet_. He was so impatient and I felt for him. Well, I’d see him soon enough.

Except…

The snow storm that had delayed our landing was now delaying me even more. My driver started mentioning that he might have to give up and call it a night. That’s when I handed over the last of my cash, all $322 and change. I told him that only his car getting stuck would be something I’d accept. Since it was Christmastime, I knew the money would come in handy. Hell, it’d come in handy at any time of the year.

By the time I got to the familiar building from all those years ago I was so excited that I could hardly stand it. I headed in, happy to have my old key that still worked for the front door, and made my way up the stairs. When I knocked on his door, I wasn’t sure what I’d be faced with.

I heard his feet pounding on the floor and him fumbling with the lock, frustration apparent as he struggled. When the door flung open and I was face to face (well, not really, but close enough) with those familiar blue eyes, the tears came spilling out of me.

“Mommy!”

Maximilien flung himself at me and if I hadn’t braced myself, I would have surely been toppled when his body collided with me as his little arms wrapped around my legs.

“Look at how much you’ve grown!” It was hard to believe I’d seen him only a few weeks ago; I was pretty sure he’d grown a foot.

I bent down and picked him up, stepping foot into Uncle Max’s place so he could close the door. We hugged and hugged and laughed and I cried. We sat on Max’s sofa and my son and I both calmed down and then he proceeded to grill me about why I was late _my airplane couldn_ _’t land with all the snow on the ground until they took care of that at the airport_ and did I bring anything from London for him _you_ _’ll just have to wait for Christmas to see_ and could we please have some tea _entirely too late for you little man_.

He proceeded to fill me in on what he’d been up to in day care and his friends and the tricks he’d been teaching Blackjack to do. He was rattling off everything so fast it was almost hard to keep up with him. I hadn’t had the practice of trying to keep up with him for entirely too long and I was looking forward to getting reacquainted with my speed talker.

And then suddenly, he was out like a light and I couldn’t get home fast enough. I was thankful I’d had the foresight to hire a car to take us home and on our way out the door I was promising Uncle Max that we’d catch up on everything the next time I brought him over. He was the consummate babysitter and Maximilien loved his namesake just like a grandpa, and that was easily one of the greatest blessings of my life.

It took us some time, but we made it home. It felt like the dead of night as I lugged my slumbering child up the stairs and opened the door to a wiggling and squirming Blackjack. He whined and proceeded to head butt me and he jumped up, desperate for attention. Luckily, we’d been training him before I left and a stern _no!_ was all that was needed to get him to back off.

I got Max into bed and then spent some time with Blackjack before grabbing a sparkling water and taking a few deep breaths, wanting the tension to leave my body as quickly as possible. I took a look around and couldn’t help but smile. I had so much Christmas decorating to do, but that was for tomorrow. I headed to my studio and closed the door before turning on the light and the monitor so I could listen for Max in case he needed me. I needed to immerse myself in my work for a few hours as I had entirely too much to do before my show in March. I knew Max wouldn’t like how much I would be away from him, but when you’d worked as hard as I had, you had to strike when others came calling.

* * *

I don’t know how long I’d been bent over my screen when I felt Nick’s warm lips on the back of my neck, his hands massaging my shoulders and back before spinning my chair and helping me up. That’s when I noticed the soft music and I couldn’t have been happier when he pulled me into his arms and began dancing with me.

“Hello, beautiful.”

“Hey there, handsome.”

A few bars played before he continued.

“I don’t know how long you can stay tonight. I’m expecting my girlfriend any minute. Her plane from London landed.”

“Why didn’t you meet her at the airport?”

“I would have preferred to, but the guys in the band were dicking around on me, taking their sweet time. But, the good news is that I’m done. I’ll have all the time in the world for her until she heads back to London.”

Do you know how hard it is to fake pout when you have a grin on your face? “All the time for her? None for me?”

“You I can see anytime. Her, well, I know she’s anxious to get home.”

He couldn’t even possibly know how anxious. The cab driver had been happy to get rid of me. “That would make sense, what with being in cramped quarters for about 12 hours.”

“That long? Really?”

“Yeah. Snow and airplanes don’t necessarily mix all that well.”

“I am so sorry. Hey, how was Max when you picked him up?”

We both knew the answer to that one; we’d seen it a couple of weeks ago when they came to London for a visit. “Oh my God. Well, let’s just say he wore himself out talking a mile a minute.”

“He was so excited last night. It was almost as bad as Christmas Eve. He was over the moon you were coming home and he wouldn’t sleep.”

I soothed the lines from his brow before caressing his cheek.

“That why you have the dark circles?”

“That and I’ve been pushing the guys to get our recording done. I want as much time with you as I can get.”

“Prove it.”

God, but I’d missed his smile and his laugh. “What?”

“You haven’t kissed me yet. Kiss me, you idiot.”

Nick’s kisses still made me feel like hummingbirds had taken flight in my stomach. I never tired of that feeling and I hoped I never would. He tried to stop kissing me and move to his favorite places on my body but no way, no how would I let that happen. It felt like it had been forever since we’d been together even though it had just been Thanksgiving when he’d brought Max over to celebrate both the holiday and me being offered my own show. Was that just two and a half weeks ago? It may as well have been a lifetime.

Nick gave me exactly what I wanted when he stopped trying to do what he wanted and did what I needed. We fell into a rhythm that was at once both familiar and yet felt new. Hearing the noises he made sent chills up my spine and made my body sit up and take notice. We were both frantic and yet calm at the same time. We were desperate for the familiarity of arms and legs and bodies and skin and warmth.

Neither of us took more time than was necessary in undressing the other, but I’d had a bit more luck than he had getting all his clothes off. Still clad in my new lingerie, bought especially for tonight, I put a halt to his efforts.

“I need to tell you something, Nick.”

I just about squealed when I saw his grin. God, I’d missed this man something fierce!

“I love you, too, Vi. Now get out of your-” his eyes lowered and he took a step back, quirking his eyebrow like he loved to do. “Hold on, that’s new. Let me take a look at you.” I kept my eyes on him as I spun, happy I’d splurged on some new lingerie before I left London. The lavender and gray lace had just been so pretty on the hangar that I couldn’t pass it up. I’d wondered what the expression on Nick’s face would be when he saw me in it for the first time-would it be like all the others, like a kid about to unwrap the biggest gift he’d ever been given?-and I hadn’t been wrong.

“Fuck, Violet, now I’m torn.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, brow furrowing. “I don’t know if I want to toss you over my shoulder and cart you off to our bedroom or tell you to get your ass on that sofa so I can make love to you right here.”

I couldn’t help giggling as I completed my twirl to face him and saw just how ready for me he already was.”

“Okay, well, I love you, too, Nick, but that wasn’t what I was going to tell you.”

“Do you have to tell me right now?”

“Yes, I do. You know _I_ lose all ability to think when we’re making love, and I don’t think _you_ want to be distracted for this.”

“Be distracted for what?”

“I have an early Christmas gift for you.”

“Besides what you’re wearing?” I could barely contain myself when I nodded. “What’s that?”

I took his hand and kissed his palm, my excitement bubbling over. As I told him my news, I placed his hand on my tummy.

“I want you to say hello to your son or daughter.”

The room became so still and so quiet as he looked at me.

“You’re-”

“Yes. I’m pregnant.”

It took time for the words to really sink in and as they did, his smile grew. This was so different from when I told him about Maximilien. That turn of events had been such a surprise for us and there was so much discussion about what we should do, and it impacted my plans. I’d been accepted into the school in London but with the program being a year, I wouldn’t be able to finish if I started while pregnant. If it had been a shorter program I would have gone then, but I needed Nick by my side when I gave-

“Marry me?”

I know I got a scowl on my face, but I couldn’t help it. “Nick, it doesn’t matter how many kids we have. I still don’t want us to get married just because of the kids.”

“Hold on.”

“What…” He turned and left my studio. I can honestly say, I never thought he’d propose and then leave the room before I gave him my answer, although he probably already thought I’d given my answer. It was the same as all the other times he’d asked me on the spur of the moment.

He came rushing back in. He’d tossed on some silky black boxers and a matching bow-tie. He looked a little ridiculous and at the same time completely handsome and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I had this whole thing planned for Christmas Eve after we put Max to bed, I was going to- well, never mind that now.”

He got down on his knees in front of me and I just-

“Before you left for school this year, it had been years since we’d been apart for more than a couple of days, since before Max was born, when I was on the road with the guys or you were off gallivanting with Sasha and you know I’ve wanted you to marry me since we met, but you just wouldn’t say yes because you thought- I am botching this up.” His nervousness surprised me. He was normally the calmer of the two of us and seeing his hands shake and hearing his voice quiver and get higher? It was endearing and made me love him all that much more. “Watching you get on that plane when you left for London in August was the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced. I put everything I wanted on the back burner because this wasn’t just what you wanted, this was what you needed, what you deserved. You have been nothing but supportive of me and I wanted to do the same for you and I’m so glad I did because I saw the most incredible change in you when I saw you last month. You are completely in your element and you glow when you talk about your pictures, your work and what you’re doing and your upcoming show and more than that you are so good!”

Cue the waterworks. I felt tears slide down my cheeks. This always happened when he praised my work. It was amazing to have someone believe in me so completely.

“Oh, God, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m so sorry.”

I wiped at them and knew I was smearing what little makeup I had left after the 12 hour plane ride but I didn’t care.

“No, I’m okay. Go on.”

“You want me to continue?”

“Please.”

His face lit up. I mean, he was practically glowing he was smiling so wide.

“I want your happiness and your enthusiasm and your passion and your joy in my life. I don’t want anything else, anyone else, ever. I want our son, oh God, our children-” he did the sweetest thing: he knee-walked a couple of steps and then pulled on my hips and held me close and kissed my tummy, kissing our child. If I’d thought I’d stop crying, well, that was in the past. He finally continued. “I want our children to know what love is and to know what a loving marriage is and I want to share everything with you. These last four months without you have been hell-”

“Damn it! I knew my being in London would be too much to ask, and Max-”

“No, no no no- Max is doing so well with Uncle Max and Aunt Tina’s help and they adore him and they get to spend time with him and it’s working out really well. I’m happy to have gone through the hell of missing you, so you could go after your dream, just like you’ve shoved me at mine, time and time again. I love you so much and I want to commit myself to you forever. I am yours, _forever_ , and I want our friends and family to see who we are to each other and to share in our joy.” I have no idea where he pulled it from, but my brain stopped when I saw the most beautiful sapphire and diamond Art Deco ring he was holding. I knew this time was unlike all the others.

“Please marry me.”

This wasn’t one of his spur of the moment proposals. Christmas was still over a week away and he’d planned for this-

_He had a ring._

I got down on my knees and he wiped at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. We both knew I’d use the excuse of all the emotions due to the hormones of the pregnancy, but we also both knew that wasn’t the reason.

_Forever._

“Well, when you put it that way, of course I’ll marry you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting/Downloading:  
> Please do not repost or make these works available for downloading on any other site.


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